


The Flame of Doves

by strawberry_truffle



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage, Parenthood, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Romance, Sexual Content, Trans Male Character, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 113,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_truffle/pseuds/strawberry_truffle
Summary: During the final battle in Enbarr, a mysterious young girl is found, and is discovered to be Emperor Edelgard's child. Byleth and Dimitri decide to shelter her as per her late mother's wishes while they rebuild the kingdom. Once crowned king and archbishop, their efforts become difficult when various attacks and rumors of threats circle the kingdom. Meanwhile, the citizenry is unaware Byleth becomes pregnant with an heir, the fact kept secret due to rising tensions. Rats in the walls shatter everything, and Byleth discovers he may be fighting more for love of family than love of kingdom.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 49





	1. At the Apex of the World

The sky was misty with a coming rain storm. There was a variety of commotion in the atrium of Enbarr’s Imperial Palace as the Kingdom army recovered from their most recent battle. A priestess with nimble hands tended to the shoulder wound on Dimitri’s shoulder, just above his heart. Byleth stood next to him and watched carefully with a stoic expression. 

The war was over. There was likely to be more skirmishes for months, the lingering remnants of rebellion before it would be snuffed out. The smaller factions would likely be able to take care of it. For Dimitri, his close friends and comrades, and the Knights of Seiros, their fighting was done. There was new work for them to tackle, new journeys to set foot upon. 

Dimitri was unsettled. His hand was numb, his shoulder was throbbing with pain, and his brow had broken a sweat. He was now king of a united Fódlan. It was daunting, but he was more so jarred by what he had just endured. 

He wanted to spare his stepsister Edelgard. He held out his hand to her, and she tried to stab him in the heart. It was then that he ended her life. It was only a few hours prior, and the image haunted him. He was making strides in overcoming the voices of the dead, much thanks to Rodrigue’s dying words and Byleth’s unfaltering support. Yet, even so, Edelgard was sure to haunt him for the years to come. 

A hand on his upper back startled him out of his musings. He tilted his head up at Byleth, and saw it was his touch he was feeling. Byleth gave a pensive, thoughtful half-smile and danced fingertips along the edges of Dimitri’s hair. Dimitri eased. It was silent comfort, Byleth’s signature, and it was enough to settle his soul. 

Silent comfort had been part of a steady pattern over the last few moons. There was tension between Byleth and Dimitri, soft touches, compassionate gazes, and steady words. There was always an underlying tone to every exchange. It had never been spoken of, but Dimitri hoped he was reading Byleth’s intentions correctly. It was difficult to tell, but given everything that had transpired, Dimitri wouldn’t let the opportunity pass him by. He was willing to try, and kept a ring in his pocket for the right moment. It wasn’t yet time, but he hoped it would be soon. 

“Your Majesty,” Dedue said, walking up to Dimitri with a bow, “how are your injuries?”

“I am doing fine, Dedue. No need to worry over me,” Dimitri replied with a nod. 

“I am thankful. The army has been plagued with a peculiar situation.”

Byleth furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“There was a child lingering in the basement of the castle. We were scouting the area for enemies and also for supplies, and we came upon her in one of the rooms beneath us.” 

“A  _ child _ was within this castle during a battle!?” Dimitri exclaimed, a bit incredulous. 

“Unfortunately. We wanted to ask you what we ought to do with her before we leave for Fhirdiad.” 

“Dimitri…” Byleth mumbled. He shook his head. “Do think it’s possible….”

“What are you thinking, Professor?” Dimitri asked. 

“Let’s speak with the child before we depart.” 

Dimitri furrowed his brow. It was often difficult to discern what Byleth was thinking, or what motivated him, but over time, he had learned to trust it. He nodded. “Bring the child here, Dedue, so we may speak with her.”

Dedue bowed and stepped away. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” 

After some time, Dedue returned with a small girl. She cowered behind the Duscur man’s legs. Her black hair was tangled and in disarray, two large, violet eyes staring them down. Byleth stepped forward and crouched to her level. 

“What is your name, little one?” he asked with a soft tone. 

_ “Ashen Demon!” _ she said. 

Dimitri’s eye widened. “That cannot possibly…” 

“It’s the Ashen Demon!” she exclaimed, pointing at Byleth. “Mommy told me the Ashen Demon has green hair and an orange sword!”

“Who is your mother?” 

“N-No!” the girl cowered. “Mommy! It’s the mad king with an eyepatch!” 

Byleth stood and stepped back. He shook his head, a hand on his temple. “Whoever her parents are, this child was told about us from them.” 

“She won’t speak with us, she thinks we are her enemies…” Dimitri sighed. “Perhaps someone else? Dedue, go find Mercedes. We will see if she can speak with her.” 

Mercedes was soon brought back to the small group around the king. She adorned a bright smile as she crouched to the cowering girl’s level. “Hello there,” she greeted. “What’s your name?” 

“Audrina…” the girl mumbled. 

“Oh, what a beautiful name! How old are you?” 

“Three…” 

Mercedes clasped her hands together and crinkled her nose with another smile. “My, such a young and pretty little girl! Are you perchance hungry?” 

“Yeah!” Audrina said with a smile back. 

Byleth scratched the nape of Dimitri’s neck, his fingers intertwining strands of hair. He and Dimitri glanced at each other. The priestess tugged and he bit back a grunt. Byleth sighed and cleared his throat in hopes of gaining Mercedes’ attention. She glanced up at him. 

“Parentage?” he mouthed to her in an almost inaudible voice. She shook her head with a furrowed brow, not understanding what he meant. Dedue interjected before any more signals could be exchanged. 

“I believe the Professor is curious as to who this child’s parents are,” he said. 

Mercedes opened her mouth in understanding. “Oh. I see.” She turned back to Audrina with another smile. “Who are your parents, little princess?” she asked with a peppy voice. 

“The Emperor and Daddy…” Audrina said. 

Everyone in the group startled. Dimitri stiffened and jostled, the priestess losing her place in tending his wound. Byleth blinked and stared at the little girl. Dedue stayed stoic while Mercedes furrowed her brow with pure heartbreak. It was silent for a few minutes, the little girl’s eyes wandering from person to person. 

“El...had a  _ child!?” _ Dimitri exclaimed through the silence. “And yet she still would not take my hand in a truce.”

“She must’ve entrusted this child to someone, and that someone was also killed in the battle,” Byleth added. 

“Even so...would she not choose to live and atone for her own child? Perhaps she thought it would be too dangerous for the child to have any connection to her after the war.”

“I cannot...just simply accept this. Professor...you and I, let’s scour this castle for journals and records before we leave for Fhirdiad. We need to know more about this child.”

“I agree.”

“Mercedes, will you please look after her? We cannot have a child so young wandering around this war torn place.” 

Mercedes nodded and stood, Audrina in her arms. “Of course, Dimirti.”

**-0-**

The halls were empty and eerie on the untouched upper floors of the palace. Every floor had been cleared for lingering enemies, but Byleth kept one hand on the sheath of his sword as a precaution. He and Dimitri pushed open doors and looked inside rooms. They came upon an especially grand wing, and their search narrowed to drawers and shelves. They reached what appeared to be Edelgard’s office and began digging through books and papers. 

“It is not uncommon for a ruler to keep journals of both personal and imperial endeavors,” Dimitri mused. “It acts as a blueprint for successors, as well as reliable accounts to the true wishes and personality of its writer.”

Byleth nodded and pulled a thick leather book from a shelf. He flipped through it and recognized Edelgard’s handwriting from the academy days. He beckoned Dimitri over with his hand. Dimitri nodded and stood behind him, peering over his shoulder. Byleth flushed at the proximity, but swallowed his emotions. His eyes turned to the pages. Paper turned slowly. Byleth stopped and read through a particular page:

_ 12th Day of the Harpspring Moon, 1182 _

_ Today my daughter, Audrina Vestra von Hresvelg, was born. I do not plan to make this news public in the foreseeable future. I have kept everything quiet until now, and will continue to. Her father, Hubert von Vestra, and a few others, are aware. That is as far as this goes. I will not allow my enemies to use her existence against me, or target her for sharing my blood.  _

_ I am also an unmarried woman, who was tangled in a single night of vulnerability with someone whom I hold dear. While I find this should not be anyone’s business but Hubert’s and my own, that is simply not the truth. She is my successor. After this war, everyone will be made aware. Until then, her father and I will care for her in secret. This is the best way. Hopefully, this won’t last much longer, and she will never know or understand a time of war.  _

Byleth shut the book, the binding cradled in the web between his index finger and thumb. Dimitri turned around and paced away with his hand over his mouth. It was silent and eerie in the dusty room, the ghosts of the earlier battle upon them. 

“Professor, I...killed that girl’s mother…” Dimitri said, his voice weak. “I promised I would be better than this.” 

“Dimitri, this was far more complex than that. Edelgard was waging war, she turned into that beast to attack us, and even in the end, she wouldn’t truce with us. She tried to put a dagger through your heart. If I were to guess, I would say she trusted her daughter to someone that wasn’t her or Hubert. That person died in the siege on the castle, and that is why the child was in the basement alone. I’m sure scouring through these journals would explain that. 

“Despite the horrors...I can’t bring myself to believe Edelgard would abandon her daughter without a second thought. She died thinking she was protecting her. Well...that is what I’m willing to believe. Whatever the truth is, it’s too late. She’s dead, and her daughter is among us. We must decide what to do from here.” 

“If Edelgard preferred to keep her daughter’s identity a secret, then I will honor that. I wasn’t able to truce with her, but I had every intention of trying to do my best for her. If she was unwilling to accept that for her family, then...there is nothing I can do about that.”

“Yes.” Byleth nodded. “Given the strength this girl likely inherited from both parents, I wouldn’t deem it wise to send her off to an orphanage. We must keep a close eye on her to ensure her safety in the event someone does come to find out her existence.”

“That would be wise. Though...she would never allow us to look after her. She believes you and I are threats to her safety.”

“She can accompany us back to the monastery for now. Once you and I are formally coronated as king and archbishop, then we’ll be better equipped to decide what’s best for her.” 

Dimitri turned around with a nod. “That sounds for the best. Professor...I feel awful. All the senseless killing at my hand and hers...this victory is more bitter than sweet.” 

“I understand, Dimitri. It’s weighing heavy on us all. Just know you extended your hand in the end. It wasn’t up to us whether or not she took it.”

“Yes, you are right…” Dimitri paused and swallowed. “Professor...let us go home.”

**-0-**

Festivities spread across the land. One of the grandest was held at Garreg Mach, where Byleth and his friends, comrades, and knights joined together to toast their victory. Dimitri made sure Audrina was taken care of by nurses in the infirmary, then joined the others in their celebration. After a few hours, Byleth went missing. Dimitri wandered off in search of him, and came upon him in the Goddess Tower. 

“Come now, my friend. You must stop staying up so late, tomorrow is yet another early morning…” Dimitri sighed with a pause. “You cannot sleep, can you? Neither can I. I want you to know I am sorry for making you do so much when your battle wounds aren’t completely healed yet.” 

Byleth turned to face him, a glint in his eye. He shrugged. “I’m fine. What of yours?”

“Do not worry about me. My shoulder has healed nicely. I still have some numbness in my hand, but it should not hinder me much.” 

“What of the girl? My preparations for tomorrow’s archbishop coronation kept me from ensuring she’s settled.” 

“She settled with a few nurses to care for her. I also informed them to make sure she has adequate activities for a child her age, so she does not experience too much stress.” 

Byleth nodded. He turned to face the moonlight once again. Dimitri walked to stand at his side. They each stiffened at the closeness, their skin permeating warmth. Dimitri stared up at the moon far into the heavens. 

“It is a lovely night, is it not?” he mused. “How many years has it been since I've been kept up by hopes for the future, rather than nightmares of the past?”

“Nightmares?” Byleth asked. 

“I had the same nightmare for nine long years. A nightmare in which I’m constantly tormented by those who have died. They would ask me why I got to live and they had to die, and why I have not yet avenged them. No matter how many corpses I piled up for them, in the end, their voices only grew louder. I am certain I will be hearing them until the day I die, but I will not cover my ears. I will go on living. I wish to change the world in my own way…”

“I’m proud of you.” 

Dimitri flushed under the praise. “Well, Your Grace, things will be busy from now on. Our first order of business is tomorrow’s coronation. Once a professor and student, now an archbishop and king. How very far we have come.”

“Only our titles have changed.”

“This is true. To me, you will always be the one that guided me so kindly. My ally through all. My...beloved…” Dimitri halted as his inner secrets poured out. His heart slammed in his temples, but a soft smile adorned his lips. He quietly doubled-down on his proclamation. “ _ Yes. _ My beloved…”

Byleth startled. He turned to face Dimitri, his hands flung behind his back in the action. His eyes were that of a doe’s in a vast field; wide, curious, and laced with the pale greens of the grass. He blushed. “Dimitri…” 

“Listen, there is something I wish to give you before the coronation. Give me your hand.” 

The request was obliged. Dimitri placed an elegant ring in the palm of Byleth’s hand. The former professor stared at it as if it were a difficult, trying certification exam. Dimitri stiffened, wondering if he spoke too soon. 

“Please, I beg of you, say something!” he said. “If you do not wish to accept it, please just tell me. I will face the truth and walk away.” 

Byleth swallowed and shook his head. “Dimitri, there is something you ought to know about me.” 

“What is that?”

“It’s nothing malicious, I assure you. It’s just…” Byleth frowned. “I...am not as I seem. To put it simply, my outward appearance and my anatomy underneath don’t match. I understand this should come as a shock, and...I would never hide that from you. So, if that bothers you, you can take your ring from my hand.”

It was quiet. Dimitri titled his head, Byleth’s figure slightly blurred in his eye. He blinked, and the nervous face in front of him grew clearer. The statement took Dimitri off-guard, and he wasn’t sure what it meant yet. His numb hand tingled. “What do you mean by that?”

“It started when I was young. My father, during my life up until Garreg Mach, worked as a mercenary. Before I was old enough to join him in his work, there were often rough cities we would travel through. Some of them were particularly fond of capturing small girls for slavery. My father dressed me as a boy, told me to act as a boy, and began to train me with the sword. Knowing it was for my safety, I obliged.

“Over time, I was well-trained enough in the sword. My father told me I could stop the act and dress as a woman again. I didn’t want that. The more I dressed as a man, acted as a man, and was addressed as a man, the more I liked it. The more I felt like  _ myself _ . I felt as though I wanted the world to see me as a man...because it felt  _ right _ . I asked my father permission and he agreed. He supported my desire to walk through life as a man. Despite that...my... _ groin _ would tell a different story.”

It took Dimitri a few minutes for the words to settle in his mind. After licking his dry lip, his gaze returned to Byleth’s doe eyes. “This does not deter me in the slightest. I...love you, Byleth. As I see you now, as I have come to know you, I have come to cherish you. If the person I fell in love with was built through a change of outward appearance, then that is something I welcome.” 

Byleth was taken aback. He furrowed his brow with swelling emotion. “I conceded that because this is who I am, I would never marry. To marry would be to tell them what lies underneath and...I was sure whoever it was would run away.”

“I intend to do no such thing.”

A ring from Byleth’s pocket was placed into Dimitri’s hand. “I love you, Dimitri. Marry me.”

Dimitri stared at the ring in his hand. He reddened. “Let us exchange them then, shall we?”

Byleth nodded, and together they swapped family heirlooms. Dimitri’s fingers tangled in Byleth’s hair as the former professor’s head leaned on his upper chest. They shared a light embrace in the moonlight. 

“Thank you...for accepting me as I am…” Byleth mumbled. 

“I should be thanking you,” Dimitri replied. “You supported me through the most difficult time in my life. You stayed my friend and my ally when I was at my worst, when I did so many wrongs. I cannot rewrite the past, but I will do my best to atone for what I have done. If you can accept me for my faults, then I can accept you. Though...to be honest, I do not believe you actually have any faults at all. You are... _ perfect  _ to me.” 

“Dimitri...I will hold your hand through life forevermore.”


	2. Broken Charm

The coronation of the Archbishop took place with Dimtri at Byleth’s side. During his first statements as Archbishop of the Church of Seiros, Byleth announced his coming marriage to Dimtri. The crowd, full of friends and comrades, erupted with elation. After a few days of festivities, work settled in. Dimitri returned to Fhirdiad, and Byleth remained at the monastery. A few weeks passed with one exchange of letters detailing updates on restoration and a message of hopes for the future they sought to build together. 

Byleth made his way to Fhirdiad one month after his coronation. Dimitri would be formally crowned at a coronation of his own after their wedding, and both would take place during the same week. The thought planted seeds of nervousness in Byleth’s stomach. He and his soon-to-be husband were going to be the most powerful couple in the land. He prayed they did well by their power. 

He was welcomed into the royal castle. After reuniting with Dimitri, they had dinner alone on the balcony of Dimitri’s chambers. It was a fine day, a cool breeze coming in from the north. 

“What am I going to be?” Byleth mused aloud, his teacup in hand. “I’m not your queen...so what does that make me?”

“In technical terms, you are prince consort to the king. However, no one is going to refer to you as such a thing, given you’re the archbishop of the church,” Dimitri replied. 

“I see…” 

“Are you nervous, my beloved?” 

“To be honest, I am. Though, I’m sure that is quite normal given the week ahead is full of so many important events.”

“This is true. More than anything, I am looking forward to the day I will be wedded to you.” 

Byleth smiled. “So am I.”

**-0-**

The wedding day was near over, celebrations still scattered around the city and the land. Crowds of thousands cheered as King Dimitri and Archbishop Byleth announced their marriage with a joint trip to the balcony overlooking the city streets. People cheered as the couple promised to rebuild a strong and prosperous kingdom. 

Afterward, they retired to their chambers. Dimitri took off his white cloak and placed it on a chair near the fireplace. Byleth sat on the bed and gazed around the grandiose room. It was quiet for a few minutes as they settled their bones. Dimitri walked to Byleth and placed a kiss on his forehead, then sat next to him. 

“How are you, my beloved?” he asked, his voice soft.

Byleth smiled. “I’m alright. A bit...overstimulated, I’d say. The crowds were quite the surprise to me.” 

“Was it everything you hoped for?”

“That and so much more.” 

“We have a few more days until the coronation. And...this is our wedding night.” 

Byleth stiffened. He looked at the ring on his hand, his face red. “Are you...suggesting consummation?” 

“Yes... “ Dimitri nodded. “It is traditional for the married couple on the wedding night, especially a royal couple. Though, if you are tired or not ready, I will understand.” 

“It’s not that...I’m simply...nervous…” 

“That is fine. I have never shared my bed with anyone, and I assume you have not either.” 

“I have not…” Byleth sighed. He shoved his hands between his thighs. “Dimitri, I...you understand what I told you the night you proposed to me, yes?”

“Of course,” Dimitri insisted with patience. “I  _ accept _ it, my beloved. It will not bother me, I assure you.”

“Yes...but that means I can conceive. My body is entirely capable of it.”

The statement halted Dimitri’s thoughts. Though Byleth’s words didn’t change his acceptance, it startled him. The thought had crossed his mind once or twice, but respecting Byleth’s body and mind, Dimitri never sought the answer. Byleth was his beloved, no matter his anatomy or outward appearance. Dimitri was missing an eye, and never showed Byleth underneath his patch. They both had their bodily secrets, which they had accepted of each other. 

“Is that not something you wish to pursue?” Dimitri finally said. 

Byleth shook his head. “To be honest, it isn’t, not at the moment. I don’t know how we’d go about such a thing. It would be complicated and challenging, and I don’t think that is something to figure out on our wedding night.”

“I understand. We can wait until we are ready, since consummating creates a chance of conception.” 

“Dimitri...you are so understanding...far more than I deserve…” Byleth sighed and pulled a bracelet from his pocket. “This is something I can wear to prevent conception.” 

“A...bracelet?” 

“Yes. It’s infused with magic, mostly kept in the circular charm in the middle. This isn’t something widely available among the public, as it takes a complex magic spell and an advanced magic wielder to create. I..followed the archives, forged it myself...for I knew that consummation is an important thing in a marriage.”

“Will it prevent conception forever?” 

“Not at all. Only when I wear it.”

Dimitri nodded with a slight blush. “I see. Then...would you like to...consummate?” 

“Yes. I would.”

**-0-**

It took courage for Byleth to agree to consummation, but with his strength, he was willing to pursue it. He trusted Dimitri with his life, and because of that, it was his own self-consciousness that was holding him back. With a slight push from staring Dimitri in the eye, he was ready to share intimacy with his newlywed. 

Byleth was unsure of what to expect as they peeled clothing from their bodies piece by piece. Dimtri’s chest was taut and littered with scars, and so was Byleth’s. They kissed each other on every corner of skin, praising beauty and strength alike. When the heat was steaming, and the spice sweet, they undressed down to their undergarments. Dimitri’s pleasure was clear through the fabric of his shorts, and it caused Byleth to blush. He clenched his thighs shut, realizing his undergarments portrayed his pleasure a bit differently. 

“My beloved...are you uncomfortable?” Dimitri asked. “If so, we can stop.” 

“N-No...I’m simply nervous,” Byleth mumbled. He fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist. “Am I...still a man to you?” 

“Now and forevermore, no matter what paths we may take. If you wish to walk life as a man, I will support you. Your anatomy will not change that.”

Byleth swallowed tears in his eyes. “Dimitri…”

“May I?” 

“Yes.” 

Dimitri tossed the last of their undergarments. He pushed between Byleth’s legs, then kissed his thighs and most intimate areas. Byleth exhaled with pleasure and surprise. His legs relaxed after a few minutes of Dimitri’s attention. 

“Are you sure, Dimitri?”

“Beautiful…” Dimitri mumbled between his thighs. He placed more kisses. “Absolutely beautiful.” 

After that moment, Byleth accepted that Dimitri loved every part of him. His self-consciousness shattered, and they continued sharing intimacy. When they consummated, Byleth clung to his husband as they shared love, unconcerned about the outside world. Their shared bed only brought them closer together, and their bond became unbreakable. 

**-0-**

The morning sunlight welcomed a peaceful day. Byleth woke a little sore, but more elated and content than anything. He tossed in the grand canopy bed and met the face of his husband. He slept peacefully, and Byleth smiled at the sight. He pushed back Dimitri’s bangs to get a better look at his face. 

The patch on his eye had slipped slightly, showing part of what lay underneath. Byleth sighed and rubbed his thumb across Dimitri’s brow. Dimitri had never mentioned what happened to his eye, and Byleth never thought to ask. He didn’t plan to. When Dimitri was comfortable, he would tell the tale. 

Dimitri opened his eye. He stared at Byleth, and was met with a warm smile. 

“Good morning, my love,” Byleth greeted, touching his face around the patch. 

“Good morning, beloved.” 

“Does...what lay underneath this patch ever pain you?” 

Dimitri was a bit taken aback by the question. He soon settled, and told the truth. “No. It is only scarred tissue.”

“Would you...ever be willing to show me? I respect if the answer is no.” 

“You can...peel it away if you wish.” 

It was silent as Byleth gently peeled away the patch. Scarred tissue occupied where an eye used to be, a jagged line over the remnants of an eyelid. Byleth brushed a soft thumb over the spot, and Dimitri twitched. Two rough hands clasped around Byleth’s hips as a kiss was pressed to the scarred spot, Dimitri’s body tense. He exhaled as Byleth leaned away. 

“Byleth…” Dimitri mumbled, his chest fluttering. 

Byleth brushed fingers through Dimitri’s hair. “What happened, my love?”

“During my escape from imprisonment, I was hit in the eye with a throwing dagger. I am lucky it didn’t extend very far, otherwise I would have died right then and there.”

“I thank the Goddess you are with me, Dimitri. I will always pray for your wellbeing.” 

“Considering you are the archbishop, that carries quite a bit of weight,” Dimitri replied with a blush. He leaned forward and gave his newlywed a chaste kiss. “Thank you, Byleth.”

Byleth smiled. “I love you. I look forward to seeing you officially crowned king.” 

“I want you at my side through it all.”

“I will be, no doubt.”

**-0-**

King Dimitri was crowned officially, marking the new beginning for the unified lands. Skirmishes of lingering rebellions fizzled out over the course of a few months, former Empire citizens in resistance. Many were stopped peacefully, but bloodshed at times could not be avoided. Dimitri lamented, but Byleth was there to console him. Together, they began to lead the kingdom and the church into new, hopefully prosperous, territory. 

The first few months of marriage were hectic for the royal couple. Byleth frequently traveled between the monastery and Fhirdiad, exchanging information and updates on restoration with his husband. Trips were usually a few days at a time, and during that time, they were often able to squeeze in short moments of reprieve as a couple. 

Byleth dried his hair after a bath with Dimitri, a soft moment together after finding the time to share intimacy. Not every trip allotted time for the couple, but this time had, and they spent it in each other's arms. Byleth yawned and uncurled the messy blankets of the royal canopy bed. He halted. 

His magic infused charm was in a tangled heap in the middle of the bed. He snapped his bare wrist in front of his face and gawked at it. The door to the bath creaked as Byleth stood in shock, his body trembling. Dimitri walked over with a furrowed brow. 

“Are you alright, my beloved?” he asked. 

“It...came off…” Byleth mumbled. “Dimitri, it came off!” 

“What did?” 

He pointed at the bed. Dimitri pushed a blanket to the side and pinched the bracelet in between his fingers. He titled his head to examine it, his face flushed. Byleth shook his head in panic. 

“Dimitri...I don’t know when it snapped loose. What if I--What if we…” 

“We will cross that bridge when we get to it,” Dimitri said. He placed the tangled bracelet on the nightstand and climbed into bed. Byleth stood in unmoving awe. 

“We’re so busy as leaders of this kingdom!” Byleth fretted. “I live my life as a man. What if everyone finds out I conceived a child? Will they accuse me of deceiving them, or you? Or...or...will they think I’m some sort of manipulating dark mage!? Dimitri, this is not ideal!” 

“Byleth, my beloved, your mind jumps so far ahead so quickly. It might be that nothing becomes of this. If something does, then we will decide how to handle it. Personally...I would love to have a child with you.” 

Byleth blushed. “Dimitri, your patience is unrivaled. This past year, you’ve turned your heart around. Perhaps you will be the one to calm me instead of me calming you.” 

“I still have my moments. There will be times where one must comfort the other. Let us see what happens. Until then, you are doing nothing but ailing yourself with these speculations.” Dimitri beckoned him to bed, and Byleth climbed underneath the sheets. He wrapped arms around him and carded through his mint green hair. Not long after, they fell asleep after wondering what the future held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome to my fic. 
> 
> I've been working on this as a writing practice activity for a while now, but never posted it. I decided to stop being lazy and take the time to post it for the fandom instead of keeping it all to myself. lol Hopefully it is entertaining! 
> 
> It's had so many names too. I finally decided to settle with "The Flame of Doves" to represent anger and love, two themes of the overarching story-line.


	3. The Growth of Life

The restoration of the kingdom continued. Byleth led followers of the Goddess as the archbishop, often making visits to villages and orphanages to speak with them. His leadership and presence in the church quickly gained support and he became a symbol of faith and prosperity. Dimitri and Byleth continued their routine of taking posts at the monastery and Fhirdiad, taking turns making trips to each other to report progress and spend time as a couple. Byleth lamented they couldn’t spend every day together, but the aftermath of war was serious and heavy. It was their responsibility as the most powerful couple in the land to lead the people to better times. Hence, their marriage had to make sacrifices. Even so, their bond and love was unbreakable. 

Five months had passed since the royal wedding. Byleth dressed in his enlightened robes bestowed upon him from Lady Rhea, regal and imposing as the Archbishop. He brushed loose bangs over his circlet and left his chambers on the third floor. He rubbed his tired eyes and made his way to morning tea with Lady Rhea. 

Lady Rhea wore a simple white dress and a golden necklace of the church’s symbol. Her bright eyes stared at him as he approached the table. She nodded to him and brushed back a strand of hair as he sat down. 

“Good morning, Your Grace,” she said. “Thank you for taking breakfast with me.” 

Byleth smiled. “Lady Rhea, there is no need to address me so formally. We’re friends from years passed.” 

“Of course. Would you in turn simply call me Rhea?” 

“Of course.” Byleth poured them both tea. They sipped tea and enjoyed breakfast pastries, light chatter about the church’s progress between them. Byleth sighed and placed his saucer down when his stomach twinged with discomfort. It had been off and on for the past couple of days, and he tried to tame his thoughts. 

“Are you alright, Byleth?” Rhea asked. “Your face reflects discomfort.” 

“I…” Byleth sighed and shook his head. “I’m simply a bit tired. Things are hectic as of late.” 

“I understand. I am very proud to call you my successor. You are leading the church well, and bringing it up from the ashes of the war. I am very pleased.” 

Byleth flushed. “Oh...thank you, Rhea. Your words mean the world to me. I will continue to lead the church the best I can.”

“You cannot allow yourself to get stretched to your limits. If you need a rest, take one. That rest will revitalize you in your efforts. If you drag yourself down, your performance will inevitably drag also.”

“I understand. Rhea...might I tell you something? As a friend to a fellow friend?”

Rhea nodded. Byleth admitted, with a bit of nervousness, his life as a man. It was quiet as Rhea finished her tea, and nodded at him once she finished. She adorned a comforting, motherly smile and reached across the table to grasp Byleth’s hand with both of hers. Byleth flushed. 

“Byleth, my dear, you have nothing to worry about with me,” she said. “What you have told me does not change my opinion of you in the slightest. Actually, I admire your strength to walk a path of your own, and the courage you have to tell this to those around you.” 

“I appreciate your words more than you know. I am thankful, and surprised, you and Dimitri took so kindly to this,” Byleth replied, his cheeks pink from praise. Rhea had always been a motherly figure to him, and her acceptance meant more to him than she likely understood. 

“Of course. You are very special to me, and the kingdom.” 

“Rhea, I...I have something to ask you. I forged a bracelet to prevent conception, and--to put it bluntly--the chain one day snapped without me realizing. I’ve been plagued with worry these past months, and I...need to know once and for all. You are a very powerful healer. So, might I ask: can you answer the question I have?”

She nodded and stood, extending a hand to him. He took it, and together they stood. “Of course. We can do it privately in your chambers. There is no need for you to stress over this any longer. We will discover the answer so you do not have to wonder.” 

The archbishop’s chambers were quiet as Rhea hovered her hands over Byleth’s abdomen and lower back. She tilted her head down and concentrated, Byleth stiff with anticipation. Despite having no heartbeat, his body rattled with panic. Rhea stepped back with a pensive smile. 

“Byleth, my dear, you have life growing within you. Congratulations.” 

Time halted. Byleth stared at the mirror in awe. He bit his lip with regret. If only he had thought sooner, that night the chain snapped, he could’ve used his divine pulse to rewind and prevent it from happening. Not having used the ability outside war, it had slipped his mind. Now, it was far too late. Knowing he was carrying Dimitri’s child, future heir to the throne, was jarring. He didn’t know what would happen next. 

“Lady Rhea...did I make a mistake?” 

“Do you not wish to have a child?” Rhea asked, her brow furrowed. 

Byleth shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m simply nervous about how others may react to this.”

“If you wish to keep it private for now, the monastery will accommodate that. Discuss this with your husband, and see where you can go from there. You will always have my support.” 

“He’ll be here at the end of the week for a visit on the kingdom’s progress. I shall discuss it then.”

“Good. You have been blessed by the Goddess. Congratulations again.” 

Byleth nodded. “Thank you...Lady Rhea.” 

**-0-**

Byleth walked through the monastery gardens, lost in the thought. He wasn’t yet sure how to feel about the news. Dimitri would soon be arriving, and Byleth would have to face him and tell him what he now knew. The concept still evaded him, given his physique had not yet shifted in any way. His hand pressed into his abdomen. There was a child within him, the future heir to the throne. He swallowed and kept walking. 

He turned a corner, and saw Edelgard’s daughter, Audrina, with a nurse. He stiffened. He and his husband had killed her parents in war. Guilt plagued him, despite knowing they had no other choice. Now, they were expecting a child of their own, a child they could raise together. Edelgard had no such chance. He walked up to the nurse, and she stood with a bow. 

“Archbishop, it’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” she said with a smile. 

Byleth nodded and returned a slight smile. “Yes, it is. How is the little one?” 

“Quite well. She is enjoying her life here at the monastery.” 

“I’m pleased to hear that.” 

Audrina looked up from where she was playing with wooden blocks. She narrowed her gaze at him, then chucked a square in his direction. It hit him in the shin as he stepped back with surprise. She chucked another block his way before the nurse grabbed her hands. 

_“Demon!”_ Audrina exclaimed. “Mommy says you’re the Ashen Demon!” 

Byleth frowned and hung his head, his hands clasped in front of his abdomen. The nurse tried to hush her as she yanked the young child from the blocks. “I am so sorry, Archbishop. This is unacceptable behavior, and she will be reprimanded for it.”

“She is not lying. In my mercenary days I was known as the Ashen Demon. Her parents passed away in the war, and on the side of the Empire. She learned that I was an enemy from that time.” 

“Oh, Archbishop, my apologies. The war was harsh on us all. Rest easy knowing you gave this child a safe-haven, despite the fact she does not understand it.” 

“Thank you for your kind words. If you’ll excuse me, I must tend to other things. Also, thank you for taking care of her. You have my appreciation.”

**-0-**

It was the day of Dimitri’s arrival. Byleth took tea on the Archbishop’s terrace alone, anticipating how he might break the news. They had much to discuss, both as a couple and as leaders, but his new discovery was at the forefront of the list. His symptoms, now that he realized their presence, were mild. He was thankful. He couldn’t afford to grow too ill when there was much to be done. 

Byleth stood at the gates with a few guards as they awaited Dimitri’s arrival. It was customary for an archbishop to greet a royal family member’s arrival, but more so, Byleth wanted to greet his husband firsthand. It made him more nervous than usual, but it had been a month since they’d seen each other, and seeing his face would ease him. A carriage appeared in the distance and halted at the gate. The door opened and the king climbed down in his armor and blue cloak. He turned to Byleth. 

“Oh, my beloved,” Dimitri said. He wrapped Byleth in an embrace. “I have missed you.” 

Byleth’s cheeks warmed with a smile. They pulled away, and he interlocked his wrist around Dimitri’s elbow. “I’ve missed you as well. Come, I have dinner awaiting us. How was your trip?”

“It went well. It was not as long as I was anticipating.”

“I’m glad. You and everyone that traveled here with you deserves a hearty meal. I have let my guards know to guide them to the dining hall. I had ours set up on the terrace across from my quarters.”

“That sounds splendid.”

**-0-**

The dinner was full of light chatter about a variety of topics, both personal and diplomatic alike. Byleth took small bites of his dessert, his stomach pleased with the sugar. He had been craving cocoa the entire day, and was satisfied when he was finally able to wrap his tongue around it. Dimitri sipped tea with a smile and put a spoonful in his mouth. 

“You set up quite the small feast for us,” he mused. “Thank you.” 

Byleth smiled. “I know of my husband’s magnificent appetite.”

“I have missed you over this past month. There are rumors that our marriage is political in nature. I wish they could see us like this and know it is not so. I love you more than anything, Byleth.” 

“I understand why they would think that. Even so, we are doing great things for this kingdom, so if it happened to be, why does it matter?” Byleth replied. His face softened and he leaned across the table to grasp Dimitri’s hand. “I love you too.” 

“How is Edelgard’s child doing?”

“I’ve received positive reports from her nurses. She still doesn’t take kindly to my presence. We happened to pass by each other in the gardens one day and she threw her toys at me while claiming I was the Ashen Demon…” 

“That sentiment will not fade easily, I am afraid.”

Byleth shook his head. “No, it doesn’t seem so. I keep my distance from her. Despite that, it’s imperative that we keep our eyes on her. She’s going to be quite powerful, given her lineage. People might seek to take advantage of her that way.”

“Of course. When the time comes...one day she’ll come to fully understand the war and her parents.”

“Yes…” Byleth stiffened and looked at the colors of dusk. He pulled his hand away from Dimitri’s and placed both in his lap. The nape of his neck heated and the words were upon his lips. “Dimitri...I have something to discuss with you.” 

“It is not something we have already discussed over dinner? We spoke about quite a bit.” 

“No. I...I…” He struggled to speak. He pawed at the jewels on his circlet. “Do you remember a few months ago when we made love, and the chain on the bracelet snapped?” 

Dimitri nodded. It was silent a moment before everything snapped together in his head. He stood in awe, both palms on the table. “Byleth, are you with child!?” 

Byleth nodded hesitantly, his shoulders meek. He frowned. “I’m sorry, Dimitri. It’s not a good time.” 

“Do not apologize, my beloved. Oh, I am overjoyed! This is great news!” 

“Dimitri...you’re pleased with this?” 

_“Of course,”_ Dimitri insisted. “I long for the day I meet our child, and I hold them in my arms. After so many lost souls...to know we are creating life itself...this is incredible.” 

Byleth’s eyes filled with tears. He stood. “What of the kingdom? I’m carrying the heir to the throne, and yet...I walk life as a man.”

“It matters not. We will cross that mountain in due time. For now, it is perfectly fine to keep this news between us, if that would make you most comfortable.”

“It would. Thank you, Dimitri, for taking this so well. I was a bit nervous to say anything, but it’s not as though I could hide it from you.” 

Dimitri wrapped Byleth in a warm embrace. “Worry not. I will take care of you and this child.” 


	4. Dinner with an Old Friend

Dimitri stayed at the monastery a week longer than he usually did during trips to and from Fhirdiad. During that time, they continued to work on reforms that the kingdom and church could both do jointly. Meetings at the long table were lively discussions of ideas, which included members of the king’s cabinet and top members of the church. Seteth became Byleth’s right hand, and Rhea his left. He consulted their advice on a variety of things, including personal and institutional. The trio became a strong force, with Byleth leading the people in faith and harmony with Dimitri. 

It was agreed upon in private quarters that Byleth would continue to travel to and from Fhirdiad once more for meetings before staying at the monastery until the child’s birth. Rhea agreed to help him stay secluded in privacy during his later months, and once Byleth worked up the courage to tell Seteth what was going on, he agreed. Seteth’s warm, pleased smile made Byleth’s skin flutter. Everyone seemed happy for him, not negatively shocked or disappointed. It was relieving. 

Byleth hugged Dimitri in the archbishop’s chambers. They had been sleeping in the same bed, and taking breakfast together, for two weeks. He wouldn’t be seeing Dimitri again for another two months, given Dimitri was taking a tour of the newly united kingdom to make sure all was going well. Usually Byleth would accompany him, but given the news of their child, Dimitri kindly requested he stay at the monastery. Byleth agreed, though his heart ached. They had never been apart so long before. 

“When I see you again, I won’t look quite the same…” Byleth said with a sigh. “My abdomen will be a bit larger.” 

“I welcome it. It will show us a strong, healthy child,” Dimitri replied. He kissed Byleth’s forehead. “Please, I beg of you, do not push yourself too hard. I know you tend to sometimes. I am sure Lady Rhea or Seteth will slow you down in my stead.” 

Byleth nodded. “I won’t. I promise you. I’ll see you in Fhirdiad to welcome you home, my love. If there is anything you must know, I shall send word.” 

“Thank you. I love you.”

“Be careful, Dimitri. I love you, too.” 

They kissed. Byleth bit back tears, which he attributed to his body’s changes. Dimitri was often an anchor for him, and he was the same for Dimitri. Them being apart for such a lengthy period was going to be challenging as a couple, but it would only make their bond stronger. When their child was born, Byleth thought their bond would become stronger still. It seemed there was no stopping them and their progress. 

**-0-**

A month into Dimitri’s tour of the kingdom, he sent word to Byleth of good news. Progress was being made, and people were recovering well. It pleased Byleth, and motivated him in his duties as archbishop all the more. There were days he felt more fogged than usual, and when he tried to work in his office, Rhea or Seteth would gently push him into taking tea to relax. His bump was subtle, but clear to those who looked hard enough. Byleth wore a white and gold cape around his figure to hide it. The back was embroidered in gold with the church’s symbol, and somehow, when he looked upon it, it made him miss Dimitri. He thought of him more than ever as their child grew. 

Byleth still held concern for Audrina, and kept checking on her from time to time. It had been nine months since the war’s end. The small girl continued hostility towards him, but it never upset him. He kept his distance, but still wanted to provide the best for her. 

He met with one of her nurses one day in the throne room. She bowed, and gave her weekly report of the girl’s wellbeing. 

“Little Audrina is doing well,” the nurse said. “She’s learning how to read and write, and her counting is going along well. She is quite the darling, and very enjoyable to look after. However, she often talks about her mother, which she says was former Emperor Edelgard, and a father by the name of Hubert. I have no way to know whether or not it’s true, but I think you ought to know she speaks of it often.”

“That is intriguing to know. We saved her during the war, I can see how she would often speak of the ones she lost. I’ll check further into her parentage, if I’m able. A lot of records are still being recovered from the former empire,” Byleth responded. He sighed and played ignorant. He couldn’t let the nurse know of Audrina’s parentage. Edelgard wished for her daughter to have privacy for her safety, and though she was no more, Byleth would do his best to honor it. He thanked the nurse and dismissed her. 

Every time he checked on Audrina while expecting, he couldn’t help but sense guilt rising in his core. He knew they gave Edelgard the chance for truce, but Hubert was defeated without a second thought. There was no offer of truce or surrender for him, not that Byleth thought he would agree. Noticing the changes in his own body made looking after the orphan more brutal by the day.

**-0-**

Byleth packed his bags for Fhirdiad to reunite with Dimitri after his tour of the kingdom. His bump was fairly noticeable now, though not yet large. He wrapped his white and gold cape around him to hide it. As long as he saw Dimitri again without issue, all would be well. 

He was welcomed into the castle with glee, even though Dimitri had not yet arrived. Bags were placed in the corner of Dimitri’s chambers as he stifled a yawn. He removed his cloak, in desperate need of a wash, and stared at the mirror. He wrapped two hands around the bump, tugging along the loose fabric of his grey shirt. He flushed. His larger shirt hid most of it, but he still worried. He tugged on his former professor’s coat to distract from his midsection. The door opened, and he left to await Dimitri’s arrival. 

Byleth waited in the throne room. It wasn’t long until the king arrived, a group of people behind him. Dimitri rushed forward and wrapped Byleth in an embrace. Byleth bit back his tears and hugged back, his bump sandwiched between them. 

“My beloved,” Dimitri said, “I have missed you so terribly.” 

“So have I. It’s been a long few months without seeing you. I hope all is well,” Byleth replied. He blushed as a kiss was placed on his cheek. 

“All is well. Come, let us return to our chambers for a while before dinner. I need a nice bath.” 

**-0-**

They returned to the chambers, eager for time alone as a couple. Dimitri wrapped his arms around Byleth from behind, his hands cupping his abdomen. Byleth blushed, his body still. His husband’s hands lingered while it was quiet between them. 

“I have been longing to see you again, to see how our child has grown,” Dimitri said. “How have you been faring these past few months?”

Byleth twisted in Dimitri’s arms so they faced each other. “I’ve had symptoms, but everything is going well.”

“I am so relieved.” 

“The child should be born during winter, perhaps during Red Wolf Moon or Ethereal Moon.”

Dimitri placed his forehead on Byleth’s after a chaste kiss. “I will not leave again. When the birth draws closer, I will travel to the monastery and stay by your side so we can meet our child together.” 

“You’re going to be a wonderful father, Dimitri,” Byleth said with a smile. 

“I hope so. After everything I have done, all I can hope for is to atone by being a good king and a good father.” 

“I must discuss the birth itself with Rhea and see what she recommends. Soon, I’ll have to come clean with Manuela and Hanneman. Seteth is the only one besides Rhea that knows so far.”

Dimitri pulled away with a nod. “I shall leave that to you. The church is your domain, after all.”

“I worry about the birth…” Byleth admitted with a frown. He sat on the bed. “My mother died in childbirth. I know I’ll have healers and a midwife, but…”

“Should you wish to have my support, I will attend.” 

“The father being present at birth...isn’t that considered a bit improper?”

“Perhaps…” Dimitri shrugged and sat next to Byleth. “Though, taking into consideration my past and my appearance, I do not fit what would be considered a “traditional” king. Who is present during that time is ultimately your choice, Byleth. Whether you choose to have me with you or not, I shall respect your decision.” 

Byleth frowned. “It’s also indecent for a husband to witness such a thing. After seeing the birth, you will not find me physically appealing anymore. That is why husbands are to wait outside, along with the fact that midwives think they just get in the way and might faint when they see a gruesome birth.” 

“I am far from a squeamish man. I fought through war for five long years, escaped prison, and held a dagger in my hand with pieces of my own eye attached to it. These are all very gruesome things I have endured. Witnessing the birth of my child is not gruesome in the slightest. If someone might suggest that, then they have not seen what _gruesome_ truly is.”

“What about attraction? Won’t you see me as unappealing after seeing me give birth?”

“Why would I? That sounds like nonsense. I will always love you, and find you beautiful. You are giving me a child, how could I not?”

Byleth shrugged. He blushed as Dimitri placed a hand on his bump again. “I would really like you at my side during the birth, if you’re comfortable with it.” 

“Of course. Should you change your mind between now and then, just tell me.” Dimitri chuckled as Byleth put his head on his shoulder. “Besides, how could anyone deny the wishes of the king and the archbishop in wanting to stay together during the birth of their child? That seems like a position no one would want to place themselves in.” 

“You have a point. I surely wouldn’t want to be the one to fight them,” Byleth responded with a chuckle of his own. “They’re quite stubborn, I hear.”

Dimitri laughed. “They most certainly are.” 

**-0-**

Dinner was set in the dining hall. Dimitri sat at the head of the table, Byleth at his right hand. Other prominent members of the kingdom were to join, all of which were close friends and comrades of the royal couple. Dedue took Dimitri’s left side. Sylvain joined first and sat next to Dedue, his hands behind his head. 

“Yo, Professor, it’s been a while!” he said with a smile. “Or, should I say _Your Grace?”_

“Professor is fine,” Byleth replied with a chuckle. 

“Say, are you going to be here awhile? Maybe we can get some training in. I’d love to spar with you like the good old days.”

Byleth’s eyes flicked over to Dimitri, and they made eye-contact. They both cleared their throats with flushed faces. Sylvain was quick to read the change in atmosphere. He put his hands on the table with a raised brow. 

“Hey, don’t tell me you guys are slacking off. We need to be ready for anything.” Sylvian leaned forward. “It looks like you _have_ been slacking off, Professor! You’ve lost some muscle mass in your chest.”

“I--I’ve been busy with work at the monastery!” Byleth exclaimed, his cheeks red. 

“You’ve got to be ready for anything! There are still lurkers out there that don’t like what we’re doing with the kingdom. They probably won’t cause problems, but you never know.” 

Byleth sighed. The heat was rising within him. He glanced at Dimitri again. Given his condition would only get more noticeable as time went on, it was tiring trying to hide from his closest friends. It was easy to hide from the public, but to the people that knew the notorious _Ashen Demon_ , the task was far more challenging. Sylvain stared at him with doubt. 

“I...I…” Byleth began, his mind blank. 

“Byleth…” Dimitri mumbled. He tilted his head to the side, his eye wide. “What are you…” 

“I’m giving birth in the winter!” Byleth exclaimed. “I’m carrying the heir to the throne, so there is no way Dimitri is going to allow that. There. I said it.” 

“Wha…” Sylvain’s jaw went slack. He scratched his hair, then chuckled. “Nice one, Professor. Though, you’ve never been one for jokes…” 

It was silent. Dedue’s eyes flicked from Byleth to Dimitri with stern intrigue. Sylvain stared at Byleth’s red cheeks, and Dimitri’s hands covering his face. “Holy shit…” he mumbled. “You’re not lying, are you?” 

Byleth frowned. “No…We’ve kept it private from the public. We want to keep it that way. Though, it’s no use trying to hide from close friends and confidants. Me ceasing my training, which I’ve never done in my life, is suspect in more ways than one.” 

“Damn. You two haven’t even been married a year. His Majesty wasted no time putting a bun in the oven, huh? I didn’t even know it was possible, but he did it. That’s impressive.” 

“Sylvain…” Dimitri mumbled, his face red. “Must you speak in such terms?” 

“I’m just teasing. Congrats, you two.” 

Dedue nodded. “Congratulations, Your Majesty, Your Grace. I will protect the heir to the throne with all my ability.” 

Dimitri nodded with a sigh, a slight smile on his face. “Thank you.” 

**-0-**

Later that night, the royal couple settled into bed after a long day. It was a relief to be truthful with close friends, and the weight of hiding was lifted slightly off Byleth’s shoulders. Dimitri climbed into bed after Byleth, a single candlelight on the nightstand illuminating the room. He curled into Byleth’s side and rubbed a hand over his bump. Byleth blushed. 

“You were quite forward about us expecting a child today, my beloved,” Dimitri said. 

Byleth frowned and placed his hand over Dimitri’s. “I’m sorry. I struggle to make up excuses for the things that I’m not doing anymore. The public is easy enough to hide from, our friends not so much.”

“I understand. I do not mind it. I was just surprised.” 

“The child is growing and growing. I won’t be able to hide it for much longer.”

“There is no need to worry. The monastery will grant you rest and privacy for your final months. At the end of autumn, I will travel there and stay with you until the birth. Though, if you think you will need me before then, all you have to do is send word.” 

Byleth nodded and wrapped an arm around Dimitri. He played with strands of blonde hair. “I’m thinking our child will take after you.” 

“Oh? I was thinking they would take after you.” 

“We’ll have to wait and see then.” 

Dimitri chuckled. He leaned up and kissed his husband. “Yes. We will have our answer soon.” 


	5. A Divine Pulse

A few months passed, the end of autumn near. Byleth continued his work from the monastery. Over time, he became more fogged and had no choice but to slow his productivity down. Rhea and Seteth kept a close eye on him, and were often the voices telling him to relax when the paperwork piled. Dimitri would arrive at the end of the week, and the anticipation for his arrival, and the birth of their child within the next few moons, made Byleth anxious. To ease tension, he browsed the library alone. 

He found an intriguing book on alchemy and sat on one of the plush chairs by the fireplace. His large white and gold cloak piled around him. He flipped it open and began to read. It was peaceful as the fire crackled. He read through a few chapters before the door crept open. Audrina and one of her nurses walked in. The nurse bowed. 

“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” she said. “Little Audrina is going to pick her first book to read on her own today.” 

“Splendid news. I’m sure she’ll find reading just as rewarding as it is informative,” Byleth replied with a slight smile. 

“Of course, Your Grace. You’re quite excited, right, Audrina?” 

Audrina stared at Byleth with narrow brows. She screamed suddenly, then launched herself in Byleth’s direction. Byleth startled and dropped his book on the ground. He pushed himself upward, one hand around his bump to steady himself. He grimaced at bolts of pain in his lower back as the nurse held the girl back from lunging at him. 

“I’m so sorry, Your Grace. She is quite a sweet girl, really. You are the only one that she acts with such hostility towards.” 

“There’s not much I can do to change her mind, and I will not attempt to do so.” Byleth frowned. He placed a hand on his aching hip and sighed. “Thank you for caring for her. I will continue to check on her, but keep my distance.” 

He turned and made his way to the door. He stopped when pain seized his lower back, his breath hitching. His elbow leaned against the doorway as he sucked air in, awaiting the pain to pass. His legs were shallow as eclectic spikes attacked him without relent. 

“Oh, Dimitri…” he mumbled under his breath. He exhaled and eased as the pain began to slowly pass. 

“Your Grace?” the nurse said from behind him. He startled. 

“O-Oh! Don’t mind me. I shall be in contact soon.” 

Byleth walked out of the room and down the hall. He turned the corner and nearly bumped into Seteth. 

“My apologies, Your Grace,” he said. “You were just the one I was searching for.” 

“Is there something to discuss? I see a sense of urgency in your eyes,” Byleth arrived. 

“Yes. Let us discuss this in my office, it is closer than yours.” 

Papers shuffled as Byleth took a seat across from Seteth in his office. The plush backing was comfort to his hips, which still ached slightly. He was beginning to get tired, and wanted nothing more than a warm bath and rest. Despite that, he needed to tend to his duties. Seteth would never contact him for no reason. 

“We have received reports the adversaries are forming groups to counterattack the church’s actions these past months. They are acting under the name _Those Who Slither in the Dark,_ ” Seteth said. 

“There was a similar group lingering in my academy days, and during the war. They lost their leaders, but it seems they are reorganizing their efforts…” Byeth sighed with a nod. “I’m not surprised this is happening. There will always be those who are against the church, its teachings, and our faith.”

“This is true. What is worrying is they are making threats against the church and the kingdom. The group today made their first statement since the war. They have targeted the archbishop of the church, and the king. The claim is that His Majesty has aligned with the church through political marriage, and is an enemy, along with Garreg Mach.”

Byleth furrowed his brow. “Is there any credible plan of attack on our monastery?” 

“Not as of yet. We are watching very closely, Your Grace. Especially since you and the king are expecting an heir to be born within the next few moons.”

“Thank you. This is definitely something of concern. Please notify the Knights of Seiros to prepare in case of an attack against the monastery or any neighboring villages. Dimitri will be here at the end of the week, and we can hold council with him on our next steps.” 

Seteth bowed his head. “That was just as I was going to advise. It will be done as soon as possible.” 

“Of course. I’ll meet with the knights here later on this week, perhaps tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some rest. I’m...in a bit of pain today.” 

“Do you require a healer, Your Grace?” 

Byleth waved his hand. “No, I’m alright. I think getting off my feet a while will be enough. If there is any news of danger from this group, please notify me, no matter the time of day.” 

“Of course. We will prepare for the worst and hope for the best.” 

**-0-**

Byleth stood at the gate of Garreg Mach with a few guards as he awaited Dimitri’s arrival. The day was cool, and his cloak warmed him. His aches were less severe than the days previous, which he was thankful for. He stood and watched birds fly from tree to tree. A group of horses appeared in the distance. Dimitri, Dedue, and Gilbert rode closer. Byleth smiled as Dimitri halted his horse and jumped off in his black armor and blue cloak. His smile faded when he saw the expression on Dimitri’s face. 

“My beloved, come back further into the monastery. It is not safe for you to be out in the open,” Dimitri said. He grabbed Byleth’s bicep and tugged him along. Byleth stumbled and followed. 

“What is the matter?” Byleth asked. 

“Our carriage was attacked by rogue individuals that were aware I was within. They were easy enough to dispose of, but after receiving word from Seteth on the new group threatening the church and kingdom, the two seem connected.”

“Oh my…I was afraid of this.” 

“It seems we are targets. I worry for you, especially since you are heavy with child and cannot fight back. I will be at your side to support you and to keep you safe.”

Byleth flushed. “This much is true.” 

“We will keep a close eye on the situation. It could be a single rogue group, and if so, I just disposed of a good portion of them. For now, let us focus on your health and the coming birth.” 

“That is the best course of action…” Byleth sighed and Dimitri wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I have dinner ready in our chambers. Let’s eat and unwind for the night.”

**-0-**

Byleth combed his mint green hair while he stood in front of the mirror. Dimitri came out of the bath and wrapped strong arms around his husband. He kissed his neck a few times as the comb was put down. Byleth placed his hands over the ones on his abdomen. 

“Our child is growing strong,” Dimitri said. “I am thankful I am now here to look after you.”

“So am I. I miss you when we’re separated,” Byleth replied. He turned and placed a kiss on Dimitri’s lips. 

“Do you ever feel the child move?” 

“Yes. Sometimes I feel a kick or some movement. It puts me at ease.”

Dimitri smiled. “Will you let me feel if the chance ever arises?” 

“Of course.” Byleth smiled back. He grabbed Dimitri’s hand. “I feel a lot of movement when I lay down.”

They laid in bed together, the candle blown out. Dimitri wrapped his arms around his husband and pulled him into his chest. Byleth rested his head close to Dimitri’s and shut his eyes. After some time, it was clear Byleth had fallen asleep. An owl’s noise filled the silence as Dimitri watched his husband’s rhythmic breathing. He placed a hand on the swell brushing against him and closed his eye. Just as he was about to doze, he felt movement beneath his palm. It continued, beginning as light and feathered, only to grow more forceful. Dimitri opened his eye and smiled in the dark. Byleth rustled. 

“Is everything alright, my beloved?” Dimitri asked. 

Byleth exhaled and adjusted his head on the pillow. “Settle down, little one…” he mumbled. 

“Did the child wake you?” Dimitri chuckled. “They were showing their father how strong they are.” 

“You felt that?” 

“I did. It is quite exciting to form a connection with them like this before the birth.” 

Byleth smiled and ran fingers over Dimitri’s face. “I await the day I see you with our child in your arms. You are going to be a wonderful father.”

**-0-**

A month passed, and the day of the birth was drawing closer. Over the weeks, Byleth was able to speak more with Rhea about how to prepare, and together they informed Manuela and Hanneman about the situation. They were both overjoyed, Hanneman declaring he would be studying the child’s possible crest with great detail. Manuela offered to assist in the birth, and Byleth reluctantly agreed. He was a bit embarrassed to have a friend and colleague see him in such a way, but Manuela managed to ease his worry. 

The days were spent with Byleth’s workload kept to minimum, and Dimitri meeting with church members to further their restoration of the kingdom. Byleth didn’t venture around the monastery much, and mostly kept himself on the third floor of the central building, which was his as the archbishop. 

One day Manuela came to check on him in his chambers. Rhea had recommended he stay in bed for most of the day until the birth, and so Byleth spent most of his time alone in his chambers. Manuela checked him over, and sat on the edge of the bed when she finished. She held his hand with a smile. 

“Professor, you’re almost there!” she exclaimed. “How are you feeling?” 

Byleth shrugged, his face flushed. “A bit nervous, but more than ready.”

“Everything will be fine. Stay relaxed the best you can.” 

“Dimitri would like to attend the birth. We both discussed it together.” 

“Any other man I would question being able to handle it, but I certainly won’t question the king.” Manuela chuckled. “I think it’ll be good for you to have him supporting you.” 

“This might sound a bit odd, but...is there any way I can...push the progress along?” 

“You want to induce labor? There’s some wivestales out there, and a lot of it is purely anecdotal, but I think the best thing to ease discomfort at your stage is to take a walk.” 

Byleth nodded. “Thank you. I’ll ask Dimitri later if he’ll take a walk around the garden with me.” 

“For the gruff, merciless man he was, he has become such a sweetie around you,” Manuela said with a smile. “He still looks the same, but I think the turnaround is because of a certain professor.” 

“Perhaps. He said I was his greatest ally when he proposed to me.”

“I’ll admit, Professor, I’m glad I married Hanneman after the war. Now I have the love of my life, and I get to finally gossip about marriage with a close friend. I think we’ll be just fine without children though.” 

Byleth sighed. “I feel awful. You don’t want to go through this...though I’m sure it will be worth it.” 

“I’m curious...was this planned?” 

“No…” he admitted. “I had a bracelet to prevent conception, and it snapped without me noticing. I was worried about it at the time, but now...I can’t say I would want to change anything, even though I haven’t held my child yet. Dimitri and I are already in love with this little one.” 

“You’re going to be such a great parent. I’m thrilled to be with you for this.” 

Byleth chuckled. “I’m thrilled to get it over with. I hope I’m calling for you tonight after this walk.” 

“I’ll be on standby. Send for me when you think it’s time.”

**-0-**

The garden was brisk during a late afternoon walk. Byleth kept an arm locked around Dimitri’s elbow as they walked, which helped keep him steady. Tension eased around his body at getting a chance to stretch his legs and walk in the fresh air. Passerbys nodded and greeted them as they made their way around the garden. 

“Do you believe that attack on your carriage was a rogue group?” Byleth asked. “It seems there hasn’t been much activity since the initial threat just over a month ago.” 

Dimitri sighed. “It certainly is possible. Though, we may have cut through a large portion of their group, and they’re recovering and planning a counter as we speak. We should keep in mind both possibilities.” 

“I agree. It has been a stressful thing to deal with as I near giving birth, I’ll admit.”

“Hopefully that was the last of it. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m feeling a lot better. I want this walk to induce my labor tonight. I’m ready to have this child.” 

Dimitri flushed. _“T-Tonight?”_

“Are you nervous about becoming a father, my love?” Byleth asked with a chuckle. 

“Well...perhaps. I am more so worried about you giving birth.” 

“I am too. My mother died in childbirth. Lady Rhea says I’ve had none of the complications that my mother did, which is a relief. However, I still worry.” 

They turned a corner. Dimitri nodded and cupped the hand Byleth had locked around his elbow. “I have faith all will be well.” 

“I have faith too, Dim--” 

Byleth’s voice choked into a gasp when something sliced deep into the back of his upper thigh. The pain was immediate, jolts of thunder radiating up into his hip and into his lower back. Distress overtook his body, and the shock rattled his system. He only kept his balance because Dimitri grabbed onto him and held him steady. When Byleth reached around to the back of his upper thigh, his hands wrapped around a handle. When he gripped it and was about to yank it out, time pulsated and slowed. He turned around and saw a small girl behind him, triumph in her eyes. The door to the dining hall was behind her. 

The hands of time reversed, and the pulse of the divine guided him. He was two steps behind, Dimitri still discussing their child’s future birth. Byleth twisted on his feet with the most speed he could muster. His husband’s voice stopped, and he turned to see why Byleth shifted so suddenly. 

Audrina charged from the dining hall door, knife in hand. Dimitri moved quickly, pushing Byleth behind him to shield his body. His brows narrowed, and when the small girl grew close enough, he acted. With a quick swipe of his hand the knife’s blade paralleled his skin. The handle was in his grip, and he tugged. It was pulled from Audrina’s hand. 

“What in the _heavens_ are you doing!?” Dimitri exclaimed, awe and anger in his tone. 

“The Ashen Demon and his mad king killed my parents!” Audrina exclaimed. “They should be punished.” 

“You do not understand in the slightest what happened during the war. You are too young. Your mother refused to truce with me. I gave her every opportunity to leave that castle alive. It is her disgrace and shame she left you alone.” 

Byleth’s eyes fell upon the tip of the blade. He cupped Dimitri’s shoulder. “Be careful, Dimitri. There is something on the tip of that knife.” 

“What?” Dimitri examined the tip in front of his eye. His gaze narrowed. “Poison.” 

“Dimitri--” 

“Someone in the monastery convinced this child to come after you with a poison-tipped knife.” Dimitri’s eye widened. He turned to his husband. “Byleth, there is a _rat_ somewhere on these grounds.” 

“Yes. This child did not think this up on her own. She is innocent and unknowing. An adult put her up to this, and when I find them, I will punish them for manipulating a child into assisting an attack on the archbishop.” 

“Your mercy exceeds mine…”

“Let us not tread past paths. Come, we need to gather our council right away.” 


	6. The Long Ride of Night

The snow flurried on forested paths. Byleth sighed and leaned back in the carriage, fur blankets wrapped around him. His husband sat by his side with a keen eye that watched over his every movement. Manuela exhaled and sat across from them, Dedue driving their carriage. 

The council didn’t go as Byleth wanted, but as he expected. Upon examination of the knife, it was discovered the poison was lethal. It was jarring to the council of close confidants, which were all aware Byleth was close to delivering the heir to the throne. Dimitri’s rage could hardly be contained. 

_“I will find them. I will kill every last one of them,”_ he declared. 

“The archbishop cannot stay here. It is clear there is a spy for a rogue group within our monastery walls,” Seteth interjected. “Perhaps it would be best for His Majesty to take him back to Fhirdiad while we sort this out.” 

Rhea sighed with a frown. “I am not well enough to complete such a trip. I worry about the coming birth, but I believe his safety is most secure with His Majesty in Fhirdiad.”

“I will prepare supplies and we’ll be on our way as soon as we are able,” Byleth interjected. He wanted to stay with Rhea at the monastery for the birth, but it was no longer possible. He bit back frustration and worry. “Manuela, will you accompany us? You are by no means obligated to, but I’d rather not be traveling without a physician at this point in time.” 

“Of course,” Manuela replied. “I will get together supplies and ride with you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“While His Majesty and the archbishop are traveling, we will launch an investigation into this situation,” Seteth said. “This was a calculated attack on not only the church and the archbishop, but the king and his heir.” 

“Do you think these fiends were somehow aware that the archbishop is expecting?” Manuela asked. 

“I cannot imagine how,” Dimitri interjected. He stood next to Byleth, his arms crossed. “We have kept this private for months.” 

Something in Byleth’s mind snapped together. He straightened and gripped the table, his brow furrowed. Everyone in the room stiffened, doe-like eyes of concern on him. Dimitri cupped his shoulder. 

“Are you alright, Byleth?” he asked. 

“The nurse,” Byleth mumbled. 

“What do you mean?” 

_“The nurse._ I believe Audrina’s nurse is the suspect, or at the very least, an accomplice to this group that call themselves Slitherers.” 

“It would make sense, considering the child was the one wielding the poison knife.” 

Byleth frowned and shook his head. “The child has been hostile toward me for months. I didn’t take much issue with it, as long as the nurse was looking after her and she felt comfortable in the monastery. I simply kept my distance. There was one day in the library we ran into each other, and the child screamed at me. I dropped the book I was reading and didn’t pick it up. I was in a bit of pain that day and wasn’t walking as one normally would. Perhaps that is when the nurse suspected I was vulnerable for some reason or another.”

Setheth nodded, his expression stern. “We will pull her aside for questioning. For now, let us prepare for the departure of the royal family.”

Byleth pulled the blankets closer to his chin as he came out of recollection. The winter air was biting, but the carriage shielded them from the worst of it. The trip to Fhirdiad usually took three to four days, but they were attempting to get there in two or less. Byleth couldn’t tame his nervousness. He was on bed-rest at the monastery, given the unpredictable nature of when the birth would come. He now was in a carriage in the wilderness, uncertainty around him. It didn’t help ease him when all the eyes in the carriage were on him every time he shifted or exhaled. 

He managed to rest his head on a small pillow and fall asleep for the better part of an hour. When he woke, his back was stiff, the carriage’s journey along the rubbled roads nauseating. Byleth exhaled and patted his hair. He longed to rest in a bed, but he couldn’t. They had to push as far to Fhirdiad as fast as they could, so that they may get there ahead of schedule. 

Dimitri’s eye was closed, his arms crossed at his chest. Manuela was asleep, and had stretched out on her side of the carriage. Byleth sighed and gazed between the two of them, his discomfort preventing him from falling asleep. It was quiet for some time as the carriage pressed on. 

It was a surprise when pain spread across his abdomen and to his lower back. Byleth sat up a bit straighter, panicked by the sensation. It faded. He was nervous, an odd feeling in his bones. When it didn’t come back, he decided against saying anything. He watched his husband’s stern sleep and tried to relax. 

The pain returned after some time. It faded again. The cycle repeated another five times before Byleth conceded his attempts to dismiss it. With the others in the carriage asleep, he grew nervous. He didn’t want to ignite panic by waking everyone for what might’ve been a false alarm. He had done enough reading on his own to tell what might be going on. The pain was manageable, so he decided to endure it in quiet. 

An hour passed of off and on pain. Byleth shifted from time to time, but didn’t wake anyone. He was nauseous and aching, wanting nothing more than warm tea and a comfortable bed. If he wanted an inn room, all he had to do was say the words, and it was his. However, he knew if he did that, citizens would notice, and word would spread about it. He feared their enemies would trail them, especially when he was now convinced their child would be born within the next day. If he was about to give birth, he didn’t want an inn full of villagers to hear or see anything. 

Dedue opened the flap in the carriage. He noticed the sleeping members of their group and nodded at Byleth. “We will not stop, Your Grace. We shall be at the castle around dawn,” he said in a harsh whisper. 

“Thank you, Dedue. I appreciate your prudence,” Byleth said with a nod. The flap closed again, and it was quiet. 

Another pain startled him, and it caused him to grip the seat. He exhaled as it passed. The carriage was warm despite the chill, and his skin heated. They would be at the castle around dawn, and it was a three hours shy of sundown. If he could endure it until then, everything would be fine. 

The silent cycle of convincing himself faded when his thigh dampened. His eyes widened as he reached a finger underneath the waist of his trousers. His legs were slick with fluid. He panicked. 

“Dimitri,” he said. He shoved his hand against his husband’s bicep. Dimitri woke. 

“What is it, my beloved?” he asked with a worried tone. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Dimitri…” he rambled, shaking his head. 

“Byleth! I beg of you, take a deep breath and explain to me what is on your mind.” 

“I...I’m... _It’s time.”_

Dimitri straightened in the seat. “Manuela!” he said, his voice loud with panic. 

“Hm?” Manuela said. She leaned up, her eyes still groggy. 

“Manuela! He says it’s time.” 

“Oh my!” Manuela exclaimed, now wide awake. “What’s going on, Professor?”

Byleth frowned. “Consistent pain, and...dampness on my thighs.”

“Your water broke!? How long have you been enduring pain?” 

“A few hours now…” 

“A few hours!?” Dimitri interjected. “Why did you not say something?” 

“I thought it was a false alarm…” Byleth replied with a sigh. 

“We need to find an inn and get you comfortable.” 

“No!” Byleth insisted. “Dimitri, we can’t risk staying at an inn. The citizens will know we have a child together if I give birth inside an inn. Our enemies will know, and will target us. They’ve already tried to kill me. It’s too great a risk for me to give birth without the privacy of the castle.” 

“Byleth, you won’t have the privacy of the castle,” Manuela interjected with a sigh. “If your water is broken, you’ll give birth before we arrive.” 

“I...I understand. That is why I think the carriage should press on, and if I don’t make it to the castle before the child is born...so be it.” 

“What!?” Dimitri exclaimed. “Byleth, you cannot birth our _child_ in a carriage! We need to find _somewhere_ to make you comfortable.” 

“The other option besides an inn would be to stop the carriage and set up camp. I’d rather not. We need to keep this carriage moving, and not allow the entire royal family to become sitting ducks for our enemies. They’ve already attempted to assassinate me. Also, if I experience any complication, the closer to Fhirdiad I am, the better off we’ll be.”

“Professor, you are too intelligent for your own good…” Manuela said with a sigh. “He’s right. I have all the supplies I need here. If keeping this carriage moving will keep our enemies away, then that is best. We don’t need to deal with fiends ambushing us during a royal birth.”

Dimitri frowned. “You both make valid arguments. I don’t like it, but given our predicament, this seems to be the best path.”

Bags rustled as Manuela dug through them. She set supplies on her side of the carriage. “Well, Your Majesty, it seems like you’ll be in attendance whether you like it or not. As such, I’m going to put you to work.”

**-0-**

A cool cloth was wiped over Byleth’s damp forehead. He exhaled and nodded a thanks to his husband next to him. It had been nearly ten hours of relentless pain and rocky roads, and Byleth was wearing thin. He was in agony, and the close quarters of the carriage were uncomfortable. Dimitri did his best as a husband; wiping cool cloths over Byleth’s skin, giving him water to drink, and being there for him to lean on. The capital was still hours away. 

“Byleth, how are you doing?” Manuela asked. 

Byleth swallowed. “I’m...as well as I can be, given my predicament.” 

“Not even a single complaint this entire time. Color me impressed. Laboring in a carriage has to be one of the most miserable ways to endure this pain. This is the quietest labor I’ve ever been a part of.” 

“His raw strength is sometimes unfathomable…” Dimitri mumbled with another swipe of the cloth on Byleth’s forehead. 

“Perhaps now he’ll get a bit louder. He’s ready to have this child.” Manuela scooted to the edge of her seat across from Byleth. “Your Majesty, another task for you. Hold his leg to the side for me.” 

Dimitri flushed, his cheeks red. He obliged and held Byleth’s shin with both hands. Byleth rolled his head to the side, hardly noticing it. Manuela glanced up at Byleth’s tired eyes. “Alright, Professor, are you ready?” she asked. 

Byleth nodded. Manuela smiled at him with reassurance. “Follow my count, and push with the pain. Your child should be here soon.” 

Another hour passed with little progress. Byleth remained silent through it all, only inhaling and exhaling as told. Dimitri stayed quiet, only offering soft encouragement every so often. Byleth gripped his husband’s shoulder as sweat seeped into every pore of his body. The pain was excruciating, and motivation was wearing thin with no sign of the end. The carriage still pressed on, and nightfall was still upon them. Candlelight was lit in two caged sconces on either side of the close quarters. 

“Goodness, he’s giving it his all without a sound. Where is this child?” Manuela mused aloud. Dimitri gawked at her, still gripping Byleth’s leg. 

“Shouldn’t we be asking _you_ that!?” he exclaimed. 

“I...I don’t want to die like my mother…” Byleth mumbled, his first spoken words in over an hour. 

“My beloved, do not say such things. We will get through this.”

“I’m so sorry, Professor. I have to ask you to keep giving it your all,” Manuela said. 

The birth continued. Byleth pushed into the pain, his strength wearing thin. Soft encouragement from Manuela and Dimitri kept him steady. Byleth panted while a cool cloth swiped over his forehead. He pushed once more and rolled his head back, his body slack. 

“Oh my, Byleth!” Manuela exclaimed. “It seems your child has got the king’s hair color.” 

“What!?” Dimitri exclaimed. He leaned forward. “By the Goddess, she is right!” 

“Oh...how sweet…” Byleth mumbled, his teeth clenched in pain. 

“You’re close now. Give it your all, Professor,” Manuela said. 

After using his last strength, and enduring the worst of the pain, the pressure eased. He rolled his head with a pant, and opened his eyes to see a child in Manuela’s hands. 

“It’s a boy,” she said. “Congratulations!” 

“Oh Byleth, my beloved…” Dimitri said, his voice wavering. “He is beautiful.” 

The carriage was quiet. Manuela held the child still, and Byleth stared at her, disoriented from hours of enduring pain. Dimitri stiffened and stared at the child in her hands, his face worried and shocked. 

“Manuela...why is he not crying?” he asked. 

Manuela rubbed the child and cooed. She wiped him with a cloth and frowned. “Sweet child, come now…” she said. 

“My son? Is he alright?” Byleth mumbled. 

It was silent for a few more minutes. Dimitri stared at the motionless child and put out his hands. Manuela sniffled and passed the newborn to him. When he cradled him, he sobbed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Byleth hummed weakly and picked his head up. He put out his shaking arms. 

“Dimitri?” he said. “...Dimitri?” 

The child was placed in his arms. Dimitri wiped his eye and exhaled, while Manuela dabbed her face. Byleth stared at his son’s face with a pensive gaze. His eyes bubbled with tears. “...little one?” he mumbled. 

More silence. Byleth broke down, his sobs louder than his earlier exhales of pain. Dimitri pulled him into his arms and shared the anguish. Manuela watched with heartbreak of her own. The time passed slowly. Byleth wiped his face and looked at his son again. Something shifted. 

“Dimitri…” he said. “By the Goddess, he’s opening his eyes!” 

Manuela leaned forward. She peered over the couple to gaze at the child. Her jaw went slack as his eyes opened. “Oh my! I can’t believe it!” 

“Is he with us?” Dimitri sniffled and rubbed a thumb over the child’s hair. “Byleth, he is looking at us! He has your eyes, he is a miracle!” 

Mint green eyes stared into Byleth’s matching ones. Byleth sniffled. “Little one, you frightened us.” 

“A silent birth and a child without a cry. I cannot believe this!” Manuela exclaimed. “I’ve never seen this in all my days as a physician.”

“Rhea once told me I was born with no cry. I was a silent newborn. He seems to have taken after me in that regard.” 

“My son…” Dimitri said softly. He tucked a blanket closer to the newborn’s skin. 

Byleth smiled as the child began to wiggle his arms and legs. “What shall we name him?” 

“Would you like to name him after your father?” 

“The last time I shed so many tears, I was holding my father in my arms. Now, so many years later, it’s my son. Perhaps…” 

“Jeralt Eisner Blaiddyd?” 

“Dimitri...that means so much to me.” 

“I suppose it has your approval?” Dimitri asked with a chuckle. Byleth smiled at him and received a kiss on the cheek as a response. 

Manuela smiled at them and watched with relief. “Nothing is ever easy with you two, is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people have Byleth name a child after Jeralt, but it's such a great headcanon so I'm gonna join the club. lol 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


	7. Double Inheritance

The fire crackled in the fireplace of the king’s chambers. Byleth held his son in bed and rocked him slowly. They had arrived in the capital around dawn, and entered the castle not long after. Dimitri carried Byleth to their chambers, Jeralt hidden underneath his cloak. After some assistance from Manuela, Dimitri was able to help get Byleth clean and in fresh clothes. It was time for him to recover, which meant he was barred from leaving bed. Given his current exhaustion, he wasn’t about to argue. 

Dimitri stood next to the bedside in his cloak and armor. He brushed through Byleth’s hair and smiled. Byleth smiled back, his eyes scanning the room he had not seen for many months. It remained mostly the same, save for a few new pieces of furniture in the corner. 

“Did you place the bassinet and rocking chair in here?” Byleth asked. 

“Yes, I did. I figured at some point our child would travel with us back to Fhirdiad. I thought it best to be prepared for that.” 

“Your father loves you so much, little one,” Byleth cooed to the newborn. “You’ll be the one to soften him even more than I do.” 

“H-Hey!” Dimitri reddened. “Of course I love my son. I am sure I look just as gruff as ever to everyone else.” 

“He’s a quiet child. We must keep a keen eye on him. Usually a cry would be enough to tell us something is needed or wrong, but...I get the feeling even if he has discomfort, he won’t show it.” 

“You can discern that so quickly? He was born just earlier today.” 

Byleth smiled. “Of course. We’ve already been together a long while, you know. I think it’s instinctual. I can...sense it. Perhaps that makes no sense.” 

“I trust you know what you are talking about.”

“Would you like to hold him?”

“Certainly.” 

The newborn was passed to the king. It was quiet as Byleth watched Dimitri cradle their son with a soft expression. For the first time a long while, there was a reprieve from hardship. Byleth folded his hands in his lap. 

“When should we announce his existence?” he asked. 

Dimitri furrowed his brow. “I cannot be sure. I do not think now is the best time, given the assassination attempt against you.” 

“Should we tell the kingdom there was a threat to my life?” 

“I have a meeting with my advisors later today, and we shall discuss that in greater detail. I will attend while you and the little one are resting, so I do not have to spend long away from your side.”

“Alright,” Byleth said. He smiled and rubbed Dimitri’s bicep. “If he’s asleep, you can put him in the bassinet for a while.”

The child was placed in the bassinet, blankets wrapped around him. Dimitri sat next to Byleth at the bedside and gave him a chaste kiss. “I love you.”

Byleth smiled and cupped Dimitri’s cheek. His eyes were exhausted, but contained a certain brightness and hope for the future. “He looks like you.” 

“I do not understand how you endured such pain in a travelling carriage and made no sound during it. And Jeralt, so silent at birth we thought he had passed in the womb.” 

“I shall send word to Seteth and Rhea that we have a son. I’m curious as to why he shares my current eye color. I thought, perhaps, his inherited features from me would be from my past appearance…” 

“Lady Rhea will likely have answers to that. Hanneman will be able to examine his crest status as well, which makes me curious.” 

“If he has a Blaiddyd crest, it will prove his connection to you should any doubts arise.” 

Dimitri furrowed his brow and combed fingers through Byleth’s hair. “I see why you would think there could be a question of his relation to me, but worry not. He has mixed qualities from both of us, and that eye color...it is uniquely yours. He is _ours_ through and through, and heir to our work.” 

“This is true. He’s a unique child in blood, to be honest. I want to know all I can about how his heritage impacts him, but no matter what, he will always mean the world to me.” 

“I agree.” Dimitri kissed his husband’s forehead. “Get some rest. Manuela will come to check on you and Jeralt later. I shall return soon.” 

**-0-**

It was early evening when Manuela came to check on Byleth and the newborn. She checked Byleth first, and was pleased at how well he was doing so soon after birth, though he was aching and exhausted. Afterward, she moved on to Jeralt, and laid him across a blanket on the bed. She unpacked tools from her bag and started to examine his health. Byleth watched with curious eyes. 

“Manuela…” Byleth was pensive as he thought about what he wanted to say. Jeralt wiggled on the blanket, not emitting a sound as Manuela gently pressed tools to him. “Does he...have a heartbeat?” 

“I haven’t checked the heart yet, but...why _wouldn’t_ he have a heartbeat, Professor?” Manuela asked. “I understand he was so still at birth...so I’ll warn you, he may have some sort of health abnormality.” 

“I ask because I don’t have a heartbeat. I haven’t had one my whole life.” 

“What!?” Manuela exclaimed. “Are you...serious?” 

“Listen for yourself.” 

She moved closer to him with her tool. It was pressed to his chest and moved around a few times. Manuela furrowed her brow and leaned away. “Oh my, you really _don’t_ have one.”

“I believe it’s because of the crest stone within me, given to me by my mother at the expense of her life. However, I sense something peculiar about my son, though it makes me love him no less. It worries me above all else.”

Manuela moved back to Jeralt. She pressed the tool to his chest and listened. “He _does_ have a heartbeat, Professor.” 

“Oh, I’m so relieved he has his father’s heart and not mine,” Byleth said with a sigh. “I worry about his lack of a cry, though.” 

“It’s been over twelve hours since the birth. He should have cried _at least_ a few times by now, especially in the first few minutes out of the womb.” 

“Do you think Hanneman would mind if I called him here? Perhaps it has something to do with a crest.”

Manuela chuckled with a playful eyeroll. “He’ll be here faster for you than me, all you have to do is say the word _crest_. He’ll push his lovely wife aside to get to research something new.” 

“My apologies,” Byleth said. He chuckled with her. “If you don’t mind, I’ll request him to make a trip here to Fhirdiad.” 

“I don’t mind at all! To be honest, I think he’ll take as much intrigue in the child as I do. Jeralt’s unique, likely due to his parentage.” 

“Thank you. I’ll send word to the monastery today.”

**-0-**

A few weeks passed quietly at the castle. Byleth was still recovering from birth, and stayed indoors most of the time as the winter turned more harsh. The kingdom was still keeping a close eye on the new group threatening its leaders, but no information had yet surfaced. Byleth had sent word to the monastery of his son’s birth, and was hoping Hanneman would soon be arriving. 

Walking around the castle with a newborn sling and an oversized cloak wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be. Jeralt had still not yet cried, and while it frightened his parents, it had slight benefits. Byleth could carry him around the grounds without anyone noticing he was there. 

One day, Byleth knocked curtly on an office door. He received permission to go in, and swung open the door with a soft smile. Once it was shut, he loosened the strings on his cloak and it swept open. Dimitri smiled at him from his desk. Footsteps echoed as Byleth walked closer. He loosened the sling around him and placed Jeralt into Dimitri’s eager arms. 

Byleth tangled his fingers in Dimitri’s hair and scratched his scalp. It was peaceful as they gazed at their son, the small, green eyes staring up at them. “He is a beautiful child,” Dimitri mused aloud. 

“He reminds me of you,” Byleth replied. 

“He may look like me, but he has your quiet temperament.”

“I never cried as a child. My father wrote about it in his journals. I ended up fine, so I’m hopeful it will be the same for our little one.” 

“Hanneman will be able to tell us more when he arrives.” 

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled. Manuela is here too, so they can discuss their findings together. She says we have an abnormal child, and it’s true from what I see.” 

“It will be interesting to know more about any possible crests he has. He may have none. It does not matter, we will still love him the same regardless.” 

“Yes. I just want to make sure he’s healthy. That’s all I worry about.” 

Dimitri looked up at Byleth. “How about you, my beloved? It seems you are recovering from the birth well.” 

“I am. I’m still sore and tired, but I can walk around the castle without too much trouble. Manuela says I’m healing well.”

“The good health of both of you is a miracle, considering the conditions he was born under.” 

“I’m thankful to the Goddess every day.” 

The child was passed back to Byleth. Dimitri stood and kissed both his son and husband. “I have a meeting to attend, but afterward, I shall join you for dinner. I want to give our little one a bath tonight.”

Byleth smiled and cooed his son. “Did you hear that? Your Father is going to spoil you tonight.” 

“He is such a quiet child...and we were nervous to hire aid after the threat to your life, and…” Dimitri said, his face flushed. 

Soft laughs filled the room. “I’m just teasing, my love.” 

**-0-**

The next day was more lively for Byleth and his son than he anticipated. Hanneman arrived, and when he did, bypassed his wife to find the newborn child, just as predicted. Manuela sighed and chased after him, and soon enough, the couple was inside the king’s chambers with Byleth. 

“This child certainly does take after His Majesty,” Hanneman said as studied the child on the bed. “When I heard the word requesting my presence for research, I was overjoyed! Thank you, Professor.” 

Byleth nodded. “Dimitri and I are curious about what kind of crest he may have. He’s abnormal for a newborn, to put it lightly.” 

“He’s never cried,” Manuela interjected. “Not one time. Upon birth, we thought he had passed on in the womb, because he was completely still and silent.” 

“Yes. He moves around a lot more now, and I can read his facial cues to know what he needs. He has never once emitted any sort of sound. I was the same way as a child, my father wrote about it in his diaries. Even so, I’m worried about him.”

Hanneman unpacked his bag and pulled a magnifying glass from it. “That is quite peculiar. This device I have here works the same as the one I have back at the monastery, it just provides the symbol of the crests and no further information. If I may, I’ll examine any potential crests he has now.”

The glass hovered over Jeralt’s petite body. A few symbols flashed, and Byleth’s tired eyes were too slow to fully comprehend them. Hanneman gasped, which made Byleth’s body rattle in panic. 

“What is it!?” he exclaimed. 

“Incredible!” Hanneman replied. He kept moving the glass around, paying no mind to anything else around him. Manuela exhaled long and deep, one brow raised. 

“My darling, settle down! You’re scaring the Professor half to death with these opera-worthy exclamations.”

“I have never seen anything like it. He has two crests within him: the Crest of Blaiddyd and the rare, coveted Crest of Flames! How is this possible?” 

“He inherited one from each parent by the looks of it…” Manuela said. “What’s the big deal?” 

_“What’s the big deal!?_ Most crest bearers only inherit one crest! And the Crest of Flames is the rarest and most powerful crest in the world. Coupled with the Crest of Blaiddyd, this child will grow to contain great power. The only other people that possess double crests got theirs through experimentation, not through inheriting them from their parents.” 

“This means he’ll be able to wield the Sword of the Creator just as I can…” Byleth said. He furrowed his brow. “I don’t want my son to have to wield it in a true battle, but...he will learn how.” 

“This is unlike anything I have ever seen before! I wonder what else he inherited from his parents.”

Manuela shrugged with a slight smile. “Those gorgeous eyes, for one. There’s no mistaking it, just by looks alone, this is the son of the archbishop and the king.” 

Byleth’s cheeks pinked at the comment. He shook his head. “Is his health in any danger?” 

“I cannot say for certain,” Hanneman replied. “This phenomenon has never been recorded in crest research.” 

“Not quite what a parent wishes to hear, but I understand…” 

Manuela frowned. “Hanneman, a little sensitivity would do fine. This child is newly born, and the Professor still hasn’t fully healed from birth. Don’t instill more stress if it isn’t needed.” 

“It’s alright, Manuela. I can’t hide from the truth, even if it’s unknown.” Byleth furrowed his brow. “I was so focused on people judging my outward appearance, I never stopped to think that perhaps my relationship to Sothis would have an impact on my child.” 

“He’ll be fine,” she said. She walked behind Byleth and rubbed his shoulder. “We’ll just keep a close eye on him. Given he’s the king’s son, that was already a given anyway. No need to worry, just focus on healing.”

“I will continue to research this child! I am most intrigued,” Hanneman declared. 

Byleth nodded. He stared at his son, wiggling and squirming on the bed. It was quiet as Hanneman put the glass over the child again. A cramp grabbed Byleth’s attention. He placed a hand on his abdomen, still slightly swollen, and grimaced. Manuela noticed. 

“Byleth, you’re not overdoing it, are you? I know I gave you permission to go on short walks around the castle, but don’t push it too far,” she said. 

“I haven’t done much besides eating with Dimitri and writing correspondence to the monastery. Some days I can stand without trouble, others...not so much,” Byleth replied. 

“Trouble standing? Are you sure it is not something else that is the matter?” Hanneman interjected, his eyes on Jeralt. Manuela shook her head with an eyeroll. 

“Don’t mind him,” she said with a chuckle. “He may be a master of studying the crest, but he knows nothing of a physician's work. You handled birth unlike anyone I’ve ever seen. And in a carriage, no less!” 

“In a carriage!? Seteth mentioned no such thing to me.” 

Byleth flushed. “I wrote in my correspondence that my son was born somewhere on the roads between Garreg Mach Monastery and Fhirdiad a few hours before dawn. I thought it would be too dangerous to stop, given there are people targeting the royal family. So I labored for over ten hours in the carriage while it pressed forward to Fhirdiad. I had him before we made it here, with the help of Manuela and Dimitri.”

“Wow. I had no idea! Seteth keeps too many secrets sometimes!” Hanneman put his hand in his coat and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to Byleth. “Speaking of Seteth, he asked me to give this to you.”

Byleth nodded a thanks and thumbed open the envelope. He unfolded a letter and began to read:

_Your Grace, Archbishop Byleth,_

_Congratulations on the birth of your son. We here at the monastery are relieved to receive word you and him are doing well. Please extend our congratulations to His Majesty as well. Lady Rhea is overjoyed, and would like you to know she prayed to the Goddess for a safe delivery, and is grateful to hear such is the case. She will be sending her own correspondence soon._

_Regarding life at Garreg Mach, things have taken an unfortunate, darker turn. We pulled nurses in contact with Audrina, the child who wielded the knife pointed at your back. We found the spy amongst them, and she is now locked within the dungeons until further notice. She perpetrated the crime, admitted to creating the poison, and convinced the innocent child to target you in her stead. She also admitted she knew that you were vulnerable at the time, but didn’t know how or why. That is all the information we were able to get from here as of yet. We shall leave her ultimate fate and punishment to your discretion. The child remains at the monastery._

_A few days after your departure with His Majesty, a rogue pair of demonic beasts attacked the monastery. We believe these were sent by the Slitherers, the same group the nurse said she works for. We were able to destroy them with the Knights of Seiros, and damage to our complex is minimal. We are most thankful you were absent from the grounds, given it happened around the time you birthed your son._

_Lady Rhea and I have discussed this in great length, and we believe it would be best if you remained in Fhirdiad with His Majesty until we are able to sort through. If you should need myself, or Lady Rhea, all you have to do is send word, and we will travel to you. Lady Rhea believes she will be well enough to make the trip to Fhirdiad within the next few moons._

_That is all. Blessings of the Goddess upon you and your family, Your Grace._

_-Seteth._

Byleth frowned and folded the letter closed, then set it on the nightstand. Manuela sighed, as she had peered over his shoulder to read the contents. She raised a brow at her husband. 

“You didn’t think to mention the monastery was attacked after we left?” she asked. 

Hanneman shrugged. “It was a few weeks ago! The beasts were not particularly difficult to deal with, it slipped my mind, given I was coming to investigate this rarity of a child!”

“Sure, but this goes beyond a couple of rogue beasts. Those beasts had handlers.”

“I fear for my son’s safety. His existence cannot be made public,” Byleth interjected with a frown. “The citizenry would find it hard to believe I gave birth to him, an added layer to this conundrum. I’ll discuss the contents of this letter with Dimitri later. I may have to call Seteth here so we may formulate a plan to combat this.” 

“The double crests make him a powerful child, Professor,” Hanneman said. “Until we know more about him, I would recommend keeping his birth quiet. Our enemies would love to get their hands on such an anomaly.”

Manuela sighed. “Not only that, but being the archbishop and the king’s son, he’s already a target.” 

The child was picked up and cradled in Byleth’s arms. “I created a conundrum by conceiving a child with Dimitri. Even so...I regret none of it. If I have to reemerge as the _Ashen Demon_ to protect him, so be it.” 


	8. In the Morning Light

Later in the evening, the door to the king’s chambers opened. Dimitri walked through after a long day of council. His heart warmed more than the fireplace at seeing Byleth in bed with their son. Byleth glanced up at him with a smile. 

“He just fed,” he said. “He has his father’s magnificent appetite, it seems.” 

Dimitri smiled back and sat on the edge of the bed. “Is all well? I heard Hanneman arrived today.” 

“Yes, everything is fine. Though, our child is peculiar, Dimitri.” 

“How so?” 

“He possesses both the Crest of Flames and the Crest of Blaiddyd. Hanneman says he’s never seen anyone that’s inherited more than one.”

“I see…” Dimitri sighed and licked his lip. “To be honest, a world where the crest system is dismantled might be a world we’d be better off in. Sylvain and I have discussed how we might go about doing that.” 

“I think it’s something we should pursue. However, at the moment, that sentiment won’t fade so easily. Many people across the land place great value in crests. It’ll take us years to dismantle the system. In the present, our son is powerful and would be desirable to our enemies should they know he exists.” 

“Jeralt will be kept secret for now. We shall hire no aids or nurses, and only keep him near close confidants. It may be challenging, but it will be worth the sacrifice.” 

Byleth nodded. He pulled Seteth’s letter from the nightstand and handed it to Dimitri. It was unfolded and read over. Dimitri grunted and set the paper down with a shake of his head. He took Jeralt from Byleth’s arms and rocked him. Byleth frowned, his hands in his lap. 

“I worry things are taking a turn for the worst,” he said. 

Dimitri sighed. “Hopefully it is just a small uprising. We knew in the few years after the war there would likely be pockets of instability. The unification of the entire continent will not happen swiftly and easily.” 

“I understand. Sometimes I can’t help but think I conceived too fast after we married.” 

“Our son is beautiful, Byleth. I know it was not planned, but I cannot imagine a life without him now.” 

“I can’t either. I don’t regret it, I just understand having him involved is not ideal.”

“It is not, but he will be safe and protected at all times. Let us exercise caution and prepare, yet hope for the best.”

Byleth nodded. The bed creaked as Dimitri stood, making his way to the bassinet. He laid the sleeping child down and turned around. Byleth smiled at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His husband kissed his forehead and grabbed his hand. 

“How about a bath?” Dimitri asked. 

“That sounds lovely. Thank you.” 

The bath was prepared with rosewater and bubble bath. Byleth watched, his bones and muscles aching in anticipation. The water rippled when Dimitri put a finger within it to test the warmth, then stood with a nod. 

“There you go, my beloved,” he said. 

“Thank you,” Byleth said with a slight smile. His eyes studied the flickering candles around the bath as he waited for his husband to leave. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

_“Dimitri!”_ he exclaimed, his face red. “My body is still misshapen from the birth. You won’t find that physically appealing.” 

“Come now, Byleth, it is not about that. We are going to take a bath, not make love.”

“Yes, but...once you see it…”

“I understand you may be self-conscious, but there is no reason for you to be. Once you heal, you will train again, and your body will become taut once more.”

Byleth frowned, his brow furrowed. His fingers fidgeted and interlocked with each other. “I understand. I know we discussed you attending the birth, and it ended up being out of necessity. I appreciated your support at the time, it was the most intense pain I’ve ever felt, and I needed someone to lean on. Yet, now when I think about it, I’m a bit embarrassed you saw me in that light. You saw everything...even as the head--Oh Goddess, I can’t even say it!”

“You thought this up because you lie in bed all day with nothing else to think about. Witnessing the birth of our son changed me more than I have expressed openly. The last time I felt such a shift was when Rodrigue died in my arms. For the first time, I took part in bringing about life instead of taking it. My whole life has been nothing but death. Now, I have created life with the one I love the most. I even got to help you, _hold you_ , as you brought our son into this world. It was one of the incredible moments of my life. Sometimes I feel I do not deserve such a privilege, given my past. I stole this gift from so many, yet...I get this chance. I will not take it for granted.”

“Dimitri…” Byleth swallowed tears. “I’m sorry my thoughts are so trivial. This is a blessing from the Goddess. I prayed for a joyous marriage with you, ever since the day you proposed to me. If this is her plan for that joy, then I will accept and cherish it.” 

“Spoken like a true archbishop,” Dimitri said with a smile. “I understand there is a lot on your mind.Our lives changed forever during one carriage ride. It is a lot to adjust to, especially with the stress of the attacks on the kingdom.” 

“Perhaps my mind is racing too often about too much.” 

“I think it is. That is why I want to unwind with you in the bath.” He paused and gazed at the water. “Listen, my beloved. If you are willing to share vulnerability with me, then I will with you.” 

Byleth shook his head. “What do you mean?”

The eyepatch was removed from Dimitri’s face. Scarred skin was illuminated by the candlelight, his entire face uncovered. Byleth startled. There was only one other time Dimitri had taken off the patch in his presence, which was the morning after their wedding. He always kept it on, even while sleeping. 

“Well? Your husband only has one eye,” Dimitri said with a chuckle. “As long as I can still see you with what I have left, I am okay with it.” 

Byleth exhaled with a soft smile. Together, the couple stripped out of their clothing and entered the bath. It was quiet and peaceful. Dimtri held Byleth in his arms, the aroma preoccupying their minds. Byleth lifted one arm and brushed his thumb along Dimitri’s cheek. For the first time in a long while, the couple enjoyed a moment alone. Their bond was unbreakable, and despite what the rest of the world may have thought, they were deeply in love. 

**-0-**

It was a month after Jeralt was born. Byleth was recovering well from birth, and would be clear to return to training in another moon or so. He stayed in Fhirdiad, tending to the kingdom’s oversight with Dimitri. Hanneman and Manuela stayed to monitor Jeralt’s health and study his tendencies. He had still never cried, which worried Byleth every day. He and Dimitri had learned to read his facial cues, and it was enough to care for him. There was no more word from the group threatening the kingdom. For the first time in a while, there was peace. 

One day, the dawn was filled with birds chirping and subtle rays of light. Dimitri stirred and opened his eye. The bed next to him was nothing but tangled sheets. He sat up, and looked to the bath door, which was wide open. Fabric meshed together as he rose from bed. His heart sped when the bassinet was also empty, and he realized he was in the room alone. He dressed in his cloak and armor quicker than usual and set for the door. Before he reached it, something caught his eye. 

Dimitri turned around, and saw what he was searching for on the balcony. His husband stood in the new dawn, their son in his arms. Dimitri’s heart faltered with aching adoration. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen, only rivaled by Byleth on their wedding day. He watched for a few minutes, not announcing his presence in the balcony doorway. 

Byleth turned around after some time. He smiled softly at his husband, his eyes tired. “I could tell that his stomach was upset when I fed him this morning. I thought perhaps some fresh air might settle us both. It’s not very cold today, strangely enough.”

“You and him in the morning light, it is a beautiful sight to behold,” Dimitri replied. 

“Oh, Dimitri, you’re making me flustered. I’m still in my nightclothes!” 

Dimitri chuckled and walked closer. He pulled them into his arms, one hand petting his son’s head. Byleth turned his neck and placed a kiss on Dimitri’s lips. Two sets of green eyes stared up at Dimitri as the sun began to peak over distant mountains. After so many years of hardship, he finally had a place to happily rest. 

They enjoyed the shared warmth. Byleth closed his eyes, his head in the crook of Dimitri’s neck. Morning birds chirped, and the sound mixed with their light breaths. Jeralt soon closed his eyes as well, Dimitri’s thumb brushing his scalp. 

Dimitri closed his eye for a brief moment, then opened it again. He saw something in the far distance, but he couldn’t discern what it was. His vision was far from perfect, given his missing eye, which translated into far-off places being a blur. He exhaled. Byleth lifted his head up. 

“What is that in the distance? A pegasus and a wyvern?” he mused aloud. 

“I cannot tell with this flawed vision of mine,” Dimitri replied. 

“It seems like they’re headed toward the castle.” 

“It is likely the couriers returning from around the kingdom with correspondence.” 

Byleth nodded. “Yes, that’s likely so. How about some breakfast, my love?” 

“That sounds wonderful.” 

**-0-**

Breakfast was aromatic and fulfilling on the terrace adjacent to the king’s chambers. Byleth squeezed lemon into his water-filled teacup. The sun had risen a bit more, and warmth cascaded over the table spread of food. The newborn was nestled in the sling wrapped around Byleth’s chest, slumbering after his meal. Byleth rubbed nimble fingers over Jeralt’s head and sipped from his cup. Dimitri watched from the other side of the table. 

“I see you have stopped taking tea in the mornings,” he mused aloud. 

Byleth nodded. “Jeralt usually accompanies me for breakfast in the wrap around my chest. If I ever spilled hot tea on my little one, I’d never forgive myself. So water it is. Though, I will say, lemon and herbal water is refreshing for an abnormally warm morning like this.” 

“I must admit, my heart swells to see you like this every morning.” 

“Oh…” Byleth blushed. “I just get nervous. I’ll just be truthful and say I lack trust in those surrounding us. I don’t want anyone around our child that isn’t a trusted confidant. No nurses, no aids, no servants. It’s taxing on me to look after the little one every day, but it’s not the most trying thing I’ve ever done. To ensure his safety, I’m willing.” 

Dimitri furrowed his brow. “Byleth, if taking care of our son is taxing you, and what I am doing is not enough, please, just tell me. I will accommodate whatever needs you may have. I know this is a difficult situation. The assassination attempt against you makes us wary. Nonetheless, aid or not, we are his parents, and it is up to us to do what is best for him.”

“You must tend to your duties as king, my love. I do what I can as archbishop from here, but at some point, I must return to the monastery. I can care for our son. Taxing as it may be, it leaves me satisfied and fulfilled. The death we have witnessed, the gore, the war atrocities, we endured that pain to find peace. This child is our hope for the future.”

“Would it be wrong of me to say I am happy that bracelet snapped?” 

Byleth blushed and shook his head with a slight smile. “No,” he replied. “Perhaps this is the will of the Goddess, her gift to us after so many years of hardship.” 

“Thank you for blessing me with this beautiful child, Your Grace.” 

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Your Majesty.” 

They smiled at each other, and together shared soft chuckles. In these moments, their positions of power faded, and they were nothing more than a loving couple sharing breakfast on a terrace. It was refreshing, soothing, and intimate. The birds chirped on the rooftops, and filled the peaceful silence.


	9. A Full Council

For the first time since before Jeralt’s birth, Byleth sat in his office in the kingdom capital. He read over reports and papers, sorting them each by type. It was stressful and tiring. The difficulty came when he realized he still had some time to go before he fully recovered from birth. He sighed and piled papers on the right side of his desk. 

Byleth glanced over at the chair next to his, ontop a basket with his newborn snuggled inside. He brushed fingers over Jeralt’s soft cheeks, and a stare came his way. Despite the pleased expression on the child’s face, there was still no sound. Byleth sighed. The stoic nature had been passed down from his father, and he had passed it down to his son. It worried him, but he accepted it was something unique to those that carried _Eisner_ blood. 

The quiet ceased when he heard voices from outside his office door. He recognized them as his long-time friends and comrades, Felix and Sylvain. 

“Quit your jests, Sylvain,” Felix chided. “You’ve been at this one for months now.” 

“I’m not joking, I’m serious!” Sylvain insisted. “Professor is really preggers.”

“Preggers? This conversation is making me sick.” 

Byleth’s face caught fire. He touched his burning cheeks and stared at his son. The conversation continued outside his door. 

“I’m just warning you, Felix. Knock on the door, and I don’t know what you’re gonna see.” 

“I’m going to see the archbishop. I know we’re married and all, but in all honesty, you’re just a waste of time.”

Sylvain laughed. “This good-for-nothing takes that as a compliment.” 

“Hmph. Do you have business here? Or are you just following me around like a spring chick?” 

“I followed you here to warn you! Look, I don’t know when he’s due or anything, but he’s probably about ready to pop right now. Don’t say I didn’t tell you in advance.” 

The chair creaked as Byleth stood. Flames were ripping through his skin as he waged a war against embarrassment. He couldn’t stand to listen any longer as Sylvain babbled about his pregnancy. His boots clicked against the floor, and after a deep breath of preparation, he swung the door open. Sylvain and Felix turned. Felix looked Byleth over with a raised brow.

“So it really was a jest. Ridiculous,” he declared. 

Byleth’s squinted, unamused eyes bore into Sylvain’s soul. He stepped to the side with a welcoming arm, a forced smile on his face. “Felix, Sylvain, it’s a pleasure to see you two again. Please, step inside.” 

The pair stepped inside and Byleth shut the door. He shook his head in mild disapproval. “Sylvain, will you please not talk about how “preggers” I was? I don’t need rumors spreading about me around the castle.” 

“See?” Felix retorted with a shrug. “You’re bothering the archbishop. Stop it.” 

“Professor! You really were pregnant, right? No, wait, I _know_ you were. You told me at dinner the last time I visited the castle,” Sylvian argued with a furrowed brow. 

“Enough of this--” 

“Yes,” Byleth interjected, “I gave birth to my son about a month ago.” 

Felix coughed, his face in awe. He shook his head with a stern gaze. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“No. He’s over there, in his basket.” 

Bootsteps clicked as the three of them walked over to Byleth’s desk. Felix and Sylvain peered into the basket, and stared into the newborn’s green eyes. They gawked, as if it wasn’t real before seeing it for themselves. Byleth blushed and stared at the floor. 

“Yep, that’s definitely Dimitri’s kid,” Sylvain said with a laugh. 

Felix furrowed his brow and leaned back. “That boar!” 

“I know, right? He may be missing an eye, but he’s got no problem seeing where to put the bun in the oven.” 

“Is that how you speak around the archbishop!?” 

Sylvain laughed and put his hands behind his head. “I’m just joking. Has he got a name, Professor?” 

“Jeralt Eisner Blaiddyd. We named him after my father,” Byleth replied with a nod. 

“The name of a warrior,” Felix commented. “Good choice.” 

“I’m glad you two had the chance to come visit us today. It’s been a while since we last saw each other.” 

“We’re not here bearing good news, unfortunately.” 

Byleth’s expression sunk. “What do you mean?”

“Thieves and bandits are running amuck through both of our territories. This resurgence is the worst since before the end of the war. There are reports by villagers that some of them came with demonic beasts, but I have no way of confirming that to be true.”

“There is a group targeting the church and the kingdom, they call themselves _Those Who Slither in the Dark._ They were a problem before the war and during it, but many of their generals were defeated. It seems the ideology is resurging and the group is forming to counterattack our unification process.” 

Felix shook his head with a huff. “What a pain. Just as we were starting to get somewhere. At least my blade will see some action.” 

“I share the sentiment,” Byleth said. He sighed and looked at his son. “It’s more serious than bandits. Dimitri’s carriage was attacked by rogue individuals a few months ago. There was also a spy for the group within the monastery walls, and an assassination attempt was carried out against me last month. I had to leave with Dimitri for my own safety. I didn’t make it to Fhirdiad before I went into labor. My son was born in the carriage.” 

“An assassination attempt, huh? Serious, but not surprising.” Felix put his finger on his chin. “Dimitri likely went back to his old, boar ways, didn’t he?”

“No, surprisingly not. I think our son distracts him from dwelling on his frustrations.” 

“Wow. I’m thankful you and your kid are doing okay, Professor. It seems like there was a close call,” Sylvain interjected. 

Byleth nodded. “The blade had poison on the tip. We saw it coming, and Dimitri was able to prevent anything serious from happening. Seteth has informed me the Slithers are responsible. If I had to guess, they are also most likely behind the bandit uprisings in your lands, especially if the reports of demonic beasts are true.” 

“This doesn’t sound good…” Sylvain sighed. “The war just ended, on now we’ve got this to deal with.” 

“Let’s meet with Dimitri later on and brief him on this news. We can discuss how we might handle this.” 

**-0-**

It was early afternoon. Felix and Sylvain went to spar as they waited for Dimitri to finish his tasks before they all met for council. The pair was dismayed when Byleth told them he wouldn’t be able to join them. Paperwork was draining enough on his body, he didn’t want to push it further by picking up a blade. Furthermore, he didn’t want Manuela to chastise him, which would happen if she caught wind he was sparring so soon after the birth. He returned to the king’s chambers and decided to lay down until the meeting. With the newborn in his bassinet, Byleth dozed, curled into Dimitri’s pillow. 

It wasn’t long before his dazing was interrupted with a knock on the door. Byleth sighed and waited for someone to announce their presence before rising from bed. 

“Your Grace,” Deduce said from the other side, “Seteth and Flayn are here for a visit.” 

Byleth rose from bed faster than he anticipated. He held his stomach as it cramped slightly. “I-I’ll be right there!” he called out. He wrapped the sling around him and fit his sleeping son inside. Afterward, a regal cloak with the symbol of the church was thrown around his body. He opened the door with a tired smile. 

“Is all well, Your Grace?” Dedue asked, his face as stern as ever. “Where is the prince?” 

Warmth spread across Byleth’s cheeks. No one had yet referred to his son as a _prince_ , and it startled him. The days had been quiet with him and Dimitri enjoying their newborn as a small family, and his recovery had shut him away from the outside world. As he re-emerged slowly, the situation became more and more jarring. 

“He’s under my cloak. No need to worry, he’s doing well,” Byleth replied with a slight smile. 

“I am relieved to hear that. I shall escort you to where Seteth and Flayn are awaiting your arrival. Are you ready?” 

“Of course. Lead the way.” 

The visitors were awaiting him in a small meeting room not far from Byleth’s office. When the door creaked open, they looked his way with smiles. Seteth bowed and Flayn shook her arms in excitement, her curls flinging back and forth. 

“Professor! May I see the prince? Please? Oh, this is so exciting!” she said with glee. 

“Flayn, a bit of patience would do you well,” Seteth replied. 

Byleth smiled. He loosened the tassels on his cloak and the pieces parted. Flayn squealed as she pounced on her toes, anxious to see the child. She flung into the nearest chair and extended her arms. Byleth obliged, his heart warm as he placed the newborn into her arms. Flayn swung her feet and held him tight. 

“He is so adorable! Oh, what if you and Dimitri had a little girl? We could braid each other’s hair!” she exclaimed. 

“I don’t think I’m quite prepared for that,” Byleth replied, shaking his head. “The pain of birth is still fresh in my mind.” 

Seteth chuckled with a light smile. “Congratulations, Your Grace. He is a beautiful child. We shall conduct a traditional blessing ceremony for him upon your return to the monastery.” 

“Thank you. How are things proceeding at Garreg Mach? This was an unexpected visit, but I’m happy to see both of you.” 

“Unfortunately, things have not been easy lately. Reports are surfacing all around the kingdom detailing attacks with bandits and divine beasts alike. Flayn returned from her travels to inform us.” 

Byleth nodded with a frown. “I just heard as much from Sylvain and Felix. They’re still here, and awaiting a meeting later today with Dimitri and I. Might you two join us so we can discuss this as a council of church and state?” 

“Of course, Your Grace,” Seteth replied with a bow. “Having members from both sectors will be beneficial in creating a unified front to this issue.” 

**-0-**

The council room was full of familiar faces. Seteth sat at Byleth’s right hand, Flayn smiling beside him. Cups of herbal water were served by Dedue as they waited for everyone else to arrive. The quiet of the room shattered when Sylvain and Felix made their way in with clicking boots and clanking armor. 

“I won, just give it up,” Sylvain insisted as he sat on Byleth’s left. Felix sat beside him and scoffed. 

“No, you didn’t,” he insisted. 

“Gotcha…” He winked. “We’ll settle this later.” 

“Hmph. Just focus on the task at hand.” 

Byleth chuckled with a raised brow, his son wiggling in his hold. Sylvain tilted his head at them and leaned one elbow on the table. 

“Hey, Professor, don’t you think the kid would be better off with a nurse or something? It wouldn’t do to have a screaming newborn at a council meeting,” he said. 

“He doesn’t cry,” Byleth replied. “He never has. We thought he was dead when he was born because he had no cry, and didn’t move a muscle for several minutes after birth.” 

“No cry? What kind of baby doesn’t cry?” 

Seteth crossed his arms with a light expression. “Eisner children, so it seems. Jeralt’s journal detailed that Byleth never cried either.” 

“There’s a reason Dimitri and I have decided against hiring aid for our son,” Byleth interjected. “It has to do with the assassination attempt against me. It was carried out by a nurse within the monastery walls. We can’t know who to trust and who not to, especially since the existence of our child is a secret to the general public.” 

“Speaking of which, Your Grace, that was another thing I wished to report with this visit. During the period after we assisted you and His Majesty in leaving the monastery, the child involved disappeared. We searched for weeks, and no trace. We believe she was smuggled out with another nurse, for one of them is now missing as well.” 

The room was still as Byleth’s mind joggled. Somehow, he had forgotten about Edelgard’s child in the chaos. He cursed himself and his failures. He and Dimitri promised to honor the late emperor’s wishes to keep the girl a safe secret, and know she had been kidnapped and was missing. A long, winded sigh left his lips, his face full of dismay. 

“I’m ashamed to admit I forgot about that child,” he said. “I had been looking after her after the war, and let her be taken care of by aides at the monastery. Now, she’s missing. What a failure I am!” 

“Your Grace, this is by no means your fault. The monastery was plunged into chaos after the assassination attempt, and dare I say, your personal life was as well. It has gone to show us we took the stability of the kingdom and church for granted far sooner than we should have.” 

“You’ve got that right,” Felix interjected, his arms crossed. “I never put down my blade while everyone else got complacent.” 

The door opened. Dimitri walked in and nodded to everyone in the room. He stopped and placed a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, then peered at his son. “How is he?” he asked. 

“He’s doing fine,” Byleth replied with a soft smile. Dimitri nodded and took his place at the other end of the table. Sylvain laughed. 

“Don’t get soft on us, Your Majesty,” he joked. 

“Of course not,” Dimitri replied with a chuckle of his own. “Is everyone ready to begin council?” 


	10. A Demon in the Church

The balcony doors were open in the king’s chambers, allowing a cool breeze to pass through. Byleth dazed in bed with Jeralt is in arms, wide-eyed and squirming after being fed. The council meeting had gone late into the night, and much was accomplished between everyone. Despite the exhaustion, Byleth was satisfied. There was a plan to draw small groups of soldiers to aid villages, agreed upon by members of both the kingdom and the church. It put him at ease, but not enough to settle his bones. 

Dimitri came out of the bath. He took Jeralt from Byleth’s arms. Byleth hummed, his eyes half-open. “He just had a feeding,” he said. 

“I will settle him down for you. Get some rest, beloved,” Dimitri replied. 

“How sweet...thank you.” 

The room was quiet. Byleth dazed, but was still awake enough to notice when the bed dipped beside him. He turned and curled into his husband’s side. A strong arm wrapped around him, and smiled into it. 

“May I ask you something, Dimitri?” 

“What is it?” 

“Do you remember at the ball when I snuck away to get a break from the festivities? You found me and invited me to the Goddess Tower.” 

Dimitri hummed, his fingers gliding over Byleth’s hip. “I remember. What about it? That was so long ago now…” 

“You said it would make more sense for you to wish for us to be together forever rather than a world where everyone got along. Then you claimed it was a joke.” 

“And you said you did not think it sounded like a joke.” 

“Was it?” 

It was silent. Byleth leaned up and saw a blush on Dimitri’s moonlit face. He chuckled and brushed through his blonde bangs, fingers passing over the eyepatch. Dimitri averted his gaze with a sigh. 

“Why must you put me in this position, Byleth?” he mumbled. 

“What is it? I married you and gave birth to your son, and yet, you can’t answer this simple question without getting flustered,” Byleth teased. 

Dimitri reddened. “I suppose you have a point…” He paused and licked his lip. “Well...I will admit...what I said was not a joke. I blurted it out without thinking, and then I panicked, realized you were my _professor_ , and had to take it back.”

“That’s what I thought,” Byleth said with a chuckle. “You always had puppy love eyes around me in our academy days.” 

“Puppy love?” 

“You always followed me around, gave me compliments, swore fealty to me. I dare say, those were probably things I should’ve been doing for you, given that you were the crown prince at the time.” 

“You did the same for me. You cared for me beyond my title, and I got attached to that rather quickly. Given your talent, and your connection to the most acclaimed knight of all, it left a lot of room for admiration.” 

Byleth smiled and kissed his husband, then cupped his cheek. “I love you. I’ll follow you anywhere, even somewhere we’ll never be found, even into the void. Our intimacy is so strong, so beautiful. Thank you for that.” 

“Thank you, my beloved. I feel the same about you. Seeing a smile on your face never ceases to bring me joy.” 

“I’m sorry my body is not well enough to make love. I think about it sometimes...and I can’t push it. When we return to the monastery next week, I plan to forge another charm. This time I will make a necklace so it won’t be as easy to break.”

“There is no need to apologize to me, Byleth, Take all the time you need to heal,” Dimitri said with a soft smile. “Giving birth is one of the most difficult tasks in the world. I will never claim to understand the strain, though what I witnessed paints enough of a picture for me.” 

Byleth sighed with a furrowed brow. “Yes. Oh, Dimitri...it’s agony. There was no space in the carriage to get into comfortable positions as the pain worsened. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so stressful if I were able to labor in my chambers like I wanted. I had all these plans for how I wanted the birth to happen. Nothing ever goes as we want it to, does it?”

“I am sorry. I wish it could have gone as you wanted. The fiends that sought to harm you will pay in due time.” 

“I’m not surprised they tried to kill me. However, I’m angry they tried to kill my son before he was born.” 

“They were not aware you were expecting, though.”

Byleth shook his head. “I have my doubts about that. I’m going to question the suspect myself when we travel to the monastery at the end of the week.” 

“I will support you however I can. Just tell me how.” 

“Thank you, Dimitri.”

**-0-**

The monastery was calm, yet an unspoken aura of unease surrounded it. Byleth and Dimitri exited their carriage and made way to the audience chamber in the central building to greet the top members of the church. When the doors opened, Rhea stood on the other side of the room, Seteth at her side. Byleth blinked, bygone days greeting him. He blinked again, and returned to the present. Things were not as they once were. He was archbishop. It was still hard to grasp at times, even though it had been just over a year of him in the role. 

Rhea smiled, her eyes as bright as her white dress. “Byleth, I am relieved to see you once again,” she said. “How is the little one?” 

“He’s doing well.” Byleth smiled back. He loosened the strings on his cloak, then took the child from the sling around his chest. The newborn was held out for her to take. “Would you like to hold him?” 

“Of course!” She took the child in her arms, and a soft expression warmed her face. “Oh, sweet child…”

“He doesn’t cry. It worries me a bit, but I understand I was the same way.” 

“Yes. Your blood is intertwined with the Goddess. Thus, any children you have, they will possess that blood as well. As the progenitor god, any features or traits that you have are inheritable. His beautiful green eyes, those are the eyes of a child from the holy bloodline, there is no mistaking it.” 

“Hanneman informed me he inherited both the Crest of Blaiddyd and the Crest of Flames. Double crests are unheard of, and only achieved through human experimentation. Those experiments led to shorter lifespans. Should I...worry?” 

“No, my dear, there is nothing to fear. Your son carries the blood of the Goddess, just as you do. Inheriting crests isn’t the same as being manipulated into possessing them. The manipulation is what causes a shorter lifespan, injecting more power into a body than it can handle. Your child is perfectly capable of handling such power, given his parentage.”

Byleth sighed and nodded. “Thank you, Rhea. That puts me more at ease.”

“Of course.” Rhea placed the child back into Byleth’s arms. “We shall give you some time to settle. When you are ready, we will meet for a council meeting.”

“Your Grace, one more thing,” Seteth interjected. “The perpetrator of the assassination attempt is in the dungeons underground. The punishment for their heresy is up to your discretion.” 

“Thank you, Seteth. I shall take care of this shortly. Those responsible have committed great sin, and judgement will soon be passed.” 

**-0-**

The dungeons were grungy and solemn. Byleth ventured down alone, and in modest white and gold robes that outshined his surroundings. Guards bowed to him and greeted him with sincerity, surprised to see their leader in such a dark place. Byleth nodded back and kept going. 

He paused in the middle of the cobblestone pathway. His boot splashed in a small puddle as a cramp in his abdomen distracted him. He shook it away and kept going. The cramps were subsiding slowly, but every twinge was yet another reminder of what he endured over the past month. It boiled his blood, seeping into normally stoic bones. He thought of his son in the archbishop’s quarters with his husband and pushed further down the hall. 

The cell he was searching for came into view. He stopped in front of the ironclad bars and peered down at the woman sitting on the edge of a mattress of hay. She noticed his presence and looked up at him with a coy smile. 

“I see you’ve finally found old Katrina, Your Grace,” she said. 

“Where’s Audrina Vestra von Hresvelg?” he asked with a critical, stern expression. 

Katrina stood and made her way to the other side of the iron bars. “Do you honestly think the Emperor would want her child in the hands of her enemies? I did her honor a favor by smuggling her out of here.” 

“The Emperor refused to truce, and thus, sacrificed her life for her failed ideals. The child was innocent. What is your aim and why did you kidnap her?” 

“Just know we would never harm her, not with the blood she has. The Flame Emperor worked with us during the war, and we will honor that by being the _true_ protectors of her child.” 

Byleth shook his head, his circled becoming crooked. He adjusted it with two fingers. “From what I understand, the Empire and _Those Who Slither in the Dark_ had mutual interests, but the Emperor soon grew to disdain your group.”

“Yes, we both hated the kingdom with a passion. In her stead, we will continue to fuel that hatred and hone it to fight against the church’s filth.” 

“This ignorance and insolence of you and your kind is palpable. Tell me why you goaded an innocent child into pointing a knife at my back.” 

Katrina chuckled, the brows narrow. “She hates you just as much as we do. You and your delusional rat of a king procreating and multiplying, it’s disgusting and must be stopped.”

Byleth stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide. His expression soon narrowed to disdain and anger when the woman cackled. Water dripped from a leak in the ceiling and fell into his hair, but he paid it no mind.

“You thought you could keep it a secret, didn’t you?” she said. “Fool the world into thinking you couldn’t bear children, right? You let it slip that day in the library. The way you gripped your stomach, the way you hobbled in pain out the room, it was so _obvious_ , Your Grace. Now all those who slither in the dark know.” 

“You wanted to kill me before I could birth my child.” 

“Of course. It was a two-for-one. But that rat king had to get in the way. I knew my assumptions about your pregnancy were right when you fled the church right after it happened. Your parasite of a child was born not too long ago, was it not? Born so recent, your body is still likely bleeding from the trauma. Just know my kind will hunt you down before you heal from birthing your demonic spawn.” 

“You are wicked and drenched in insolence. I destroyed the empire and I’ll destroy you and your kind. You will pay dearly for endangering the Archbishop and his child. You will suffer and writhe before you’re admitted to the eternal flames.”

“Hah. Bring in the guillotine, then. I regret nothing.”

Byleth unclasped the dagger on his belt, his stance unwavering. He stared down at her with flaming eyes and narrowed brows. He thought back to the sensation of pain as the knife hit his thigh, the rewind of time, and the chaos and carriage ride that ensued after. He thought of how his labor was spent in cramped agony and fear of being attacked again, suffering through pain and lucky enough to escape it without complication. Finally, he thought of how he and his child could have died together before they made it that far. 

It boiled within him, and something snapped. 

“Oh, no, you’re mistaken. Your death will not be swift. Judgement has been passed. The Archbishop of the Church of Seiros will do the honor of spilling your blood onto the Goddess’ soil.” 

Katrina’s eyes widened and she stumbled back. She shook her head and stared at the knife. “Oh...I see. So the Ashen Demon lives after all.” 

She yelped when he reached through the bars and yanked her forward. He drove the dagger into her shoulder, and she screamed out in pain. It tore from the flesh as it was yanked back and driven again into a spot a little further to the right. 

“I won’t let you hurt him!” he seethed in a guttural voice. “I won’t allow it. I’ll strip you of everything. I’ll _destroy_ you.” 

Blood splattered onto his white clothing. He drove the dagger in again and again. “You stole my father, you won’t steal my son. Spill your blood for daring to harm the progenitor god and the heir to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.” 

Katrina gasped as her near-lifeless body dropped to the ground. She looked up at his fierce expression with wavering eyes. She coughed, and more blood spilled onto the cobblestone. 

“I--s-see the truth...we--were right about you…” she rasped. “A demon...c-controls...the Church...of Seiros.”

The soiled dagger dropped to the ground with a clank. Byleth turned, saying nothing, and made his way down the hall. His stomach cramped from the exertion and the adrenaline, but he paid it no mind. Guards gawked at the archbishop’s harsh expression and bloodied clothing, having heard the entire exchange. They let him pass with subtle bows, too intimidated by the Ashen Demon to ask if he needed assistance.


	11. Forced Rest

Byleth lingered in front of the double-doors to his chambers. His husband and child were within, and he couldn’t bring himself to face them with his pure clothing stained red. The stares from guards, bishops, and nuns, and priests was already enough to spark many a dinner conversation. He teetered on his toes and rocked in front of the wooden door, his hand on the knob. Time passed slowly. 

“My beloved, is everything well?” Dimitri said from behind him. Byleth stiffened and refused to turn around. He opened the door and stepped inside, his eyes solemn. He said nothing as Dimitri followed in inside and shut the door again. 

“I thought Jeralt would enjoy the temperate weather, so him and I stepped onto the terrace for some fresh air. He seems to have taken a liking to it, and fell asleep in my arms,” Dimitri continued. Byleth watched from the corner of his eye as his husband put the child in the bassinet. 

“Byleth? Is everything alright? You are not speaking much…” 

“I questioned the perpetrator…” Byleth mumbled, his hand down. 

Dimitri nodded and stood behind him, his reflection in the mirror. “What information do you have?” 

“It’s worse than we thought. Edelgard’s child is among them, kidnapped right underneath our noses. And...they know I gave birth. I’ve made so many horrid mistakes and--” Byleth put his knuckles up to his lips to stifle upset. “The news will spread, likely to be taken as rumor by the citizens. But to this group...one of them saw firsthand that it’s the truth.” 

“How do they know you and I have a child?” 

“That day in the library, when the nurse saw I was vulnerable, she figured out why that might be the case. She saw me cup my abdomen when Audrina charged at me. I was in pain that day, and it was a struggle to walk, but…--What am I saying? There are no excuses. I’ve compromised us all. What a silly thing to be caught over.”

Dimitri exhaled and sat on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed. “You cannot blame yourself. The blame lies in those that are targeting us, and thought to use your vulnerability to harm you. We’ll locate them and destroy their treachery.” 

“I...executed the perpetrator. It would be too great a risk for someone to find her in the dungeons and either aid her escape, or trade information with each other. We know there have been spies among us.” Byleth sighed and shook his head. “I’ll admit...though the execution was strategic, the way I conducted myself...it was not becoming. I could’ve slit the throat or stabbed the chest once, but instead I--drove the dagger in over and over again.”

“Byleth…” 

“It was an act of vengeance. She taunted me, admitting she wanted to kill my son still in the womb. It put me in a fit of rage. I’m used to people hunting after me, I had always known a life where there were bounties over my father’s head. But to know someone wanted to murder my innocent child before his birth…”

Dimitri stood and cupped Byleth’s shoulders. He turned him around, his eye widening at the bloodied clothing. He frowned. “I am glad you are safe.”

“Am I?” 

It was silent. Dimitri gripped Byleth’s shoulders and stared at the floor. There were no words to be said to articulate the gravity of emotion in the room, or the weight of the world beyond their chambers. Past conversations played in Dimitri’s mind from his crazed days, and it startled him. He refused to draw parallels between that and his dear husband. 

“How about a bath? You and I,” he suggested. 

Byleth shook his head. “Dimitri, I was a _monster_. Since the birth, I’ve changed. I would tear this world in two before someone laid a finger on Jeralt. I told that woman I would make her suffer for trying to murder my child. Blood on my hands, hatred in my heart, all in service of a newborn that doesn’t have the slightest idea what’s going on. I’ve already slain for my son and he’s just a moon old.” 

“What is done...is done, beloved. I cannot say I would have done much different. It does bother me that my husband and unborn child were targeted. It does anger me. I am going to do everything in my power to root out these rats and make sure they cannot harm anyone again.”

“I’m sorry, Dimitri…” 

“You were not in the wrong to carry out an execution. I certainly am not angry about it. I am upset to see you so solemn and heartbroken.” 

“I just want us to live in peace.” 

Dimitri sighed. He cupped Byleth’s cheek. “So do I. We will get there. It might not be right away, but it will come. I promise.” 

“I hope so, my love.” 

**-0-**

Byleth dried his hair after sharing a bath with his husband. The blood from earlier in the day had been washed away. Dimitri left the bath first, leaving Byleth alone to finish his nightly care routine. The room was steamy with the scent of soap, the mirror fogged. Byleth stared at his cloudy figure. He wasn’t sure who he was anymore, even though he never had a clear picture of it. 

The door opened, and Byleth stepped out. Dimitri stood over the bassinet, one hand rubbing their son’s stomach. Tiny arms and legs kicked and thrashed. Byleth walked over with furrowed brows. 

“Dimitri, he is displeased!” he exclaimed. 

“What? You said he likes to be rubbed until he falls asleep,” Dimitri replied. 

“Not like that. He likes for me to stroke his cheeks until he closes his eyes.” Byleth pushed his husband out of the way. He smiled into the bassinet and cupped the newborn’s cheeks, gentle fingers brushing over the skin. “Hello, little one,” he cooed. “What was your father doing to you?” 

The kicking settled down and Jeralt soon closed his eyes. Dimitri smiled and crossed his arms. “It seems you two have a language of your own I cannot quite understand.” 

“Perhaps. You held him first, though.” 

“Was that not proper? If so, I am truly sorry...to steal a moment like that from you after all the agony.” 

Byleth shook his head with a smile. “It was fine, Dimitri. You held him when you thought he was dead, and didn’t shy away from it. Me...after the pain...I wasn’t yet ready to face what I thought was the truth.” 

“It is a true blessing he is with us. How about we get some well-earned rest?” 

A hand was held out to Byleth, and he accepted it. They crawled into bed together, wrapped in each other’s arms. Byleth was kept awake throughout the night by hauntings of the past, and fears of the future. Despite the warmth of his husband, and the comfort of his son in the bassinet next to him, it wasn’t enough to conquer the dark. 

**-0-**

Dawn arrived with the smell of chamomile and pastries. Byleth rustled and curled deeper into the pillows as fingers brushed through his bangs. His eyes opened slowly, his husband standing over him with a soft smile. 

“I had breakfast brought to our quarters today,” he said. 

Byleth sat up in bed with a blush. “Oh...thank you, my love.” 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

“I’m exhausted…” Byleth frowned and took a sip of tea. “It matters not. There is much for me to attend to today.” 

“Do not push yourself too hard. You should rest when you need to.” 

“I have not the time, Dimitri. Not when there are enemies at our doorstep.” 

Dimitri sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. He cupped Byleth’s cheek. “Tell me if there is anything I can do for you, alright?” 

“Of course. Thank you for having breakfast brought to me.” 

“Certainly. I have some things to attend to this morning, but I will return in about an hour or so. Take this time to rest.” 

Byleth nodded. He leaned forward, and they kissed. Bootsteps down the hall followed the door clicking shut. It was quiet as Byleth enjoyed his breakfast. Afterward, he went into the bath and washed his face, unable to scrub away the bags under his eyes. His body gew sluggish as he tended to Jeralt, his body following a routine through muscle memory as his mind wandered. He tucked the newborn into his carrying basket and set it on Dimitri’s side of the bed. The sheets rustled, his head hit the pillow, and he fell asleep. 

**-0-**

There was heavy knock on the open infirmary door. Manuela turned around from organizing her supplies and was met with the king’s one-eyed gaze. She startled, her hand over her heart. 

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” she said. “You gave me quite the fright.” 

Dimitri frowned and stepped into the room. “My apologies. That was not what I intended.”

“What can I help you with? It’s quite early in the morning for you to stop by.” 

“I wanted to speak with you about Byleth. I sense something different about him. I understand recovering from birth is a long process, but...he seems so unwell, and he refuses to be upfront with me about it.” 

“He’s likely working himself too hard. He thinks he can go back to his old rigor _and_ care for a newborn child, and it’s not working for him.”

“Perhaps. I wish we could hire an aid to help shoulder it, given our responsibilities demand so much of our time. It is difficult to carry the weight of the kingdom alongside keeping secret we have a child. Unfortunately, we cannot trust the outside world because of what happened to Byleth shortly before the birth.”

“I feel terrible about what happened. Honestly, it’s more of a surprise that he coped so well with the birth, rather than the opposite. I had expected at least some groaning, or moodiness, or... _anything_. He was so silent. Did those manning the carriage even realize what happened?”

“No. Only Dedue knows, and he admitted to me he was shocked when he opened the carriage door and saw a child in Byleth’s arms.” 

Manuela sighed and shook her head. “He’s...something else. Sometimes it’s difficult to help him, only because I don’t know how. He’s not like the rest of us.” 

“I understand. I am at a loss...I have been since Jeralt was born. I do not know _how_ to make things easier for him…” Dimitri sighed with her, his voice pensive. 

“You know, the problem is him _letting_ us make things easier for him. Him and Seteth are just alike in that regard. Tied to their duties above all, no matter what might be going on in the background.”

Their conversation was cut short by the echo of footsteps down the hall. Curiosity got the better of Dimitri, and he stepped into the hall to see who it was. A shadow faded outside of the Captain’s Quarters, kept the same but claimed by Byleth as his office. Dimitri exhaled and left, Manuela chasing after him. 

The chair slid across the floor as Byleth took a seat at his desk. He loosened the tassels on his cloak and let it drape over the back of the chair, his son in the sling wrapped around his chest. Papers shuffled and a letter was unfolded. Byleth wasn’t able to read past the first line before two people came into his office. 

“What are you doing, Byleth?” Dimitri asked. 

“I’m reading correspondence…” Byleth replied with a frown. 

“I thought I said to rest until I returned?”

“I slept for about fifteen minutes after you left. Then Jeralt needed me, then I dressed, realizing the church needs me too. I was unable to read my letters yesterday, and that could waste precious time.” 

“Seteth can read those letters and tell you what they say,” Maunela interjected. “Leave the drudgery work to him.” 

“I end up having to read them anyway in order to write a response. There is quite a bit here, and I can’t get too far behind, not when there are reports that demonic beasts are running around our kingdom.” 

“Are those reports true?” 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Dimitri said. He crossed his arms. “Flayn confirmed it for us at a council meeting. We’ve sent aid to the areas impacted. We suspect the same group that targeted Byleth is responsible.” 

“Just when we thought things were settling down…”

Byleth sighed and placed the letter down. “They call themselves Those Who Slither in the Dark. They were fragmented during the war, and are now piecing themselves back together. They’ve made the church and the kingdom leadership a target.”

“We will have to keep a close watch on the situation,” Dimitri mused. He blinked and gestured to Byleth. “In the meantime, _please_ get some rest, beloved.” 

“D-Dimitri...I…” 

“No excuses. Physician’s orders: _get some rest,”_ Manuela said with a raised brow. “You’re pushing too hard, Professor. Juggling a newborn and the entire church is no easy task, and it's weighing on you.” 

“How long are you two going to make me rest for?” 

“As long as it takes. Be prepared for a week or more of halving your routine.” 

Byleth dismayed. He furrowed his brows and met the stern gazes of Dimitri and Manuela. He conceded with a sigh. “Alright…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks this story has gotten! :)


	12. The Necklace

Two weeks passed of Byleth’s schedule being shuffled to include less activity. Dimitri and Seteth worked together to complete most of the work, Byleth joining them for meetings once or twice a week. It was frustrating to Byleth at first, but as time passed, he loathed to admit it was helping his soul and body recover in strides. Spending time in bed with a good book, his son in the bassinet next to him, and a cup of tea was the perfect way to spend a morning. Sometimes Dimitri would join for breakfast in bed before tending to his duties. It was bliss for Byleth, so used to vigor and hectic days. 

One early afternoon, Byleth packed his son into his carrying basket and decided to take a walk to the lower floor. With the basket strung on one of his forearms, and a finished book tucked into his elbow, descended floors. The halls of offices were empty, given it was lunch. An empty library greeted him. He returned his book to the proper spot and searched for a specific text on forging magic and alchemy. He found it and pulled it from the shelf, then exited the library. 

The offices in the hallway were still empty, save for the Captain’s Quarters. Byleth smiled when he saw Dimitri sitting at his desk, head hunched over papers. Dimitri lifted his head, surprised by his husband standing before him. 

“Byleth, beloved, what are you doing here?” he asked. 

“I went to the library to get a new book after finishing mine,” Byleth replied. “Can you watch the little one for--let’s see--about an hour?” 

Dimitri raised a brow. “Why? What are you trying to do?” 

“Clearly it’s not work, for you are occupying my office and my desk,” Byleth teased. 

“Nothing too strenuous.” 

The basket was placed on the desk with a smile. “Of course, my love. I’ll return soon.” 

**-0-**

The return took place just over an hour later as promised. Dimitri had held Jeralt for most of it, his eyes scanning over letter after letter of correspondence from across the kingdom. Footsteps echoed the room and Byleth returned with a smile, snatching the newborn from his hold. He cooed and kissed his son’s head. 

“I missed you, little one,” he said. 

Dimitri chuckled. “It was only an hour.” 

The newborn was settled into the basket once again. Byleth stood next to Dimitri and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, leaning into him. Dimitri tilted his head upward. 

“What have you done to boost your mood this much?” he asked. 

It was quiet as Dimitri’s palm was forced open, and a piece of jewelry was placed into it. Byleth chuckled as they both gazed at it. After studying it, Dimitri flicked his eye upward to look at Byleth’s face. 

“What is this?” he asked, his expression surprised. 

“It’s a necklace with a charm. I forged it while I was away. It functions the same as the bracelet that snapped, so we can...if you wish…” 

Dimitri’s face reddened. “O-Oh...I see…” 

“I understand if you lack interest. You witnessed the birth, and...my body went through many changes. I tried an hour of swordplay alone on the terrace yesterday to stretch my muscles, but it’s not enough to become taut again so soon…If you find me unappealing, I won’t take offense.” 

“I still find you as beautiful as the day I proposed to you. My mind has not changed. My only concern is whether or not you are ready to engage in that again. I hope this is more than you trying to please me, even if you are still weary.” 

“Not at all. If I wasn’t ready, I wouldn’t have forged this charm. I’m ready if you are.” 

“It has been far too long…” Dimitri said with a sigh. 

Byleth chuckled, a blush on his cheeks. “Oh, has it, my love?”

“O-Oh...W-Well…” 

“I only tease. We’ll find the time for this later on.”

Byleth plucked the necklace from his husband’s hand and pocketed it. He picked up the basket resting on one of the couches and tucked it in his elbow. His smile warmed Dimitri’s heart as he left the room. A palm once numb still tingled from the touch of charm. 

**-0-**

Candlelight flickered around the archbishop’s chambers at nightfall. Byleth sat in the rocking chair and wrote in his journal. The door creaked open. Dimitri walked in and clicked it shut quietly, and Byleth’s soft smile greeted him. He placed the quill down and rocked back and forth a few times. 

“How was today, my love?” he asked. 

“The same as usual,” Dimitri replied with a shrug. 

“Any word on Those Who Slither in the Dark?”

“Nothing major just yet. Things seem quiet for the time being.”

“I’m still uneasy, but thankful there seems to be peace.” 

Dimitri nodded. He walked over to the bassinet and peered inside. “He is sleeping, I see.” 

“He just fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago.” Byleth stood, and the journal was placed on the table. He walked over to Dimitri and wrapped arms around his neck. They kissed a few times in a row. Byleth took the charm from his pocket and put it in Dimitri’s hand. He turned around. “Will you put it on for me?” 

“Of course.”

The clasp was fastened around Byleth’s neck. He turned back around and resumed his kisses. “I love our son, Dimitri, but I’m not ready for another. Let’s make sure this one doesn’t snap okay? I reinforced it, so it shouldn’t.” 

Dimitri blushed. “We shall be careful.” 

**-0-**

The evening passed, slow and soft. Every touch was cautious, yet passionate. Byleth’s nervousness faded when affection was placed around his body, his clothing discarded piece by piece. Gentle expressions were colored by candlelight. Their bodies fluttered with the exchanges passed between them. 

With both of their bodies bare, sweet sensuality turned more fiery, but still gentle and calm. Dimitri’s hips nestled in between Byleth’s legs, just shy of bringing them together once again. Byleth smiled, a light pink on his cheeks. Ardent love blossomed in his eyes and expression as he stared into his husband’s vision. Fingers danced over Dimitri’s face. He hooked his nail around the edge of the eyepatch and pulled. It was removed and placed to the side. Dimitri furrowed his brow and hung his head, blonde hair hiding his face. 

Without a word, Byleth tugged on Dimitri’s chin and pushed their lips together. It was loving and fervent, which distracted Dimitri from all else. With some maneuvering, Byleth brought their union together in the physical, and they both gasped in response. 

Affection was placed all over Dimitri’s face, from his lips, to his cheeks, to the scarred tissue where his eye used to be. Dimitri’s heart swelled, the emotions intense and demanding. He squeezed his remaining eye shut and kept still, love and pleasure intertwined as two stems of the same rose. 

“I love you, Dimitri.”

The words startled him after so many minutes of silence. He stiffened, fighting the whirlwinds within him. It had been a long road, and yet, his husband stuck by him throughout it all. Beyond the dedication, when things didn’t go as planned, Byleth took it all in stride. He welcomed the idea of their child, though he worried, and gave them a son during a stressful time. Not once had he complained or cursed. It perplexed Dimitri. After all that he had done, such love seemed undeserved. Why he was blessed with a family after stealing it from so many others, he’d never understand. 

The musings faded when Byleth grabbed him by the shoulders and flipped their positions. He gazed down with gentle eyes and a soft chuckle. “I can still surpass your strength if I catch you by surprise, it seems.” 

“Do I deserve you?” Dimitri asked. 

“I fell in love with you, and you with me. That’s all that matters. Our lives are ours to live.” 

“I have trouble making sense of this sometimes…” 

Byleth rocked his hips, and they both gasped. He ran fingers up and down Dimitri’s taut and toned chest. “Are you weary, my love?” he asked. 

“Yes…” Dimitri admitted with a sigh. 

“Allow me to ease you in a way only I can.” 

The love shared between them had never dulled, but with the rekindling of physical intimacy, flames fanned between them. Soft, heated, and slow, they were bound together. The world beyond faded away, and they were no longer king and archbishop, but rather only a wedded couple wrapped in their adoration for each other. 

For the rest of the evening, words weren’t needed. Their intentions extended beyond language, and burrowed deep into their bones. Their souls were aflame with intimacy. Despite his status as a progenitor god, Byleth encountered something more powerful than his blood while wrapped in Dimitri’s arms. 

**-0-**

A strong heartbeat eased Byleth out of sleep. He exhaled and listened, his hand over Dimitri’s heart. It was early morning, just before dawn. After a moment of stillness, he stirred, ready to tend to his newborn. An arm pushed him back into Dimitri’s chest. Byleth exhaled, startled by the movement. 

“He was fed just ten minutes ago,” Dimitri mumbled with a hum. 

“I hope it was goat’s milk…” 

“It was. Worry not.” 

Byleth chuckled and settled again. “Thank you, my love.” 

“Of course. Relax with me a while longer.”

The room was quiet. Peaceful and shut from the world, they enjoyed the solitude. They both were aware the calm would fade when their duties caught up to them, but for the moment, they were alone as one. Nothing between them was more potent. 


	13. Father to Father

A week passed. Dimitri was preparing to return to Fhirdiad after some time away, and Byleth was going to stay at the monastery with their son. Byleth didn’t like it, but their duties were calling, and they couldn’t ignore them. His day started with his usual routine of dressing in his archbishop robes and tending to the infant.

Byleth picked Jeralt up, two sets of green eyes staring at each other. He cradled him and kissed his head as a greeting, studying him to interpret any needs or wants. Byleth startled when a new expression adorned Jeralt’s face. He smiled, his features soft. 

The door opened. Dimitri walked in, already dressed for the day. He stared at his husband with a look of surprise. “It is not often I see such an expression on your face,” he mused. 

“He’s learned how to tell me he’s happy,” Byleth replied. 

“Oh?” 

“Yes. Watch.” Byleth placed another kiss on Jeralt’s head. The infant squirmed with a bright smile accompanied with crinkled eyes. 

Dimitri was mesmerized by the happiness he saw in his family, just as he was the first time he saw Byleth smile. It was an expression that never ceased to take him by surprise, and filled his heart with joy when blessed with it. He returned a happy face and walked to his husband’s side. 

“Let me try,” he said. Dimitri placed a kiss on the child’s forehead, and another smile was granted to eager parents. The couple looked at each other with bright expressions of their own. Jeralt was plucked from Byleth and held in Dimitri’s arms. 

“He looks so much like you,” Byleth mused. “I see it most when you hold him.” 

Dimitri nodded. “Yes, but he has your temperament. Getting either of you to show emotion is an arduous task, but...ever since you became pregnant with him, I’ve seen your smile more often.” 

“Oh…” He blushed and patted his cheeks. 

“Did you ever expect a child to make you so happy?” 

“No. I knew I loved him before he was born, just by realizing he’s our child, and we created him. But...the amount of joy I get by spending time with you and him, I never expected it to be this potent.”

“I feel the same. I never expected any of this to be possible when I proposed to you, but all of it is a true blessing.”

Byleth nodded and kissed Dimitri’s cheek. It was silent as they enjoyed each other’s presence. After a jolt, Jeralt was snatched from Dimitri’s arms as Byleth made for the door. 

“I forgot I promised Flayn I’d meet her for tea this morning!” he exclaimed. “I hope I’m not too late.” 

“You gave me a start…” Dimitri said with a sigh. “Would you like for me to watch Jeralt?” 

“Well...I promised Flayn that I’d bring him.” 

The king laughed. “Of course. I shall do a bit of training with Dedue. Enjoy yourself, beloved.” 

**-0-**

Sweets piled the table along with fresh tea. The blue skies graced a pleasant morning on the terrace. The quiet was short-lived as a short woman bounced in front of Byleth with eager eyes. He chuckled and allowed some of the tension in his shoulders to ease. 

“Professor!” Flayn exclaimed with a smile. “Please, allow me to hold the prince!” 

The child was passed to her. Byleth took a seat and intertwined his fingers as his elbows rested on the table. The aroma coupled with the smiles of Flayn and Jeralt warmed the most hollow chambers of his soul. The tea left an herbal aftertaste during his first sip as he watched. Despite being dressed in the regal robes of the archbishop, he felt as ordinary as anyone else. It was a refreshing change. 

“He is so adorable, Professor!” Flayn said, her eyes on the child. “His smile is too precious.” 

“That’s new for him,” Byleth replied. “I adore it. It reminds me so much of Dimitri.” 

“Why not have more? Oh, what if one of your children had a hair color like yours?”

Birds chirped in between the lull in the conversation. Byleth blushed and crunched a cookie in between his teeth. “Well...the times are a bit too turbulent.”

“Yes, perhaps, but it shall pass! What about then? I am sure Dimitri would love that.” 

“I’m sure he would…” He chuckled and shook his head. “He was gone for most of my pregnancy. Any eagerness from him would stem from not seeing how painful it is.” 

Flayn frowned. “My brother said you always tended to your work without fail. I thought perhaps it was easy for you. You are so strong in every way. How could it not be?”

“The aches were tolerable, though sometimes I needed to rest when they came. It’s not pleasant, though I could handle it. I know I’m an emotionless leader, but I feel pain like everyone else. My enemies in my mercenary days didn’t think so. I do, though. Both Emotional and physical.”

“Professor, your heart is so deep. There are things about you I bet surprise Dimitri still.” 

Byleth nodded and refilled his teacup. “Perhaps. Him seeing me in such physical pain was likely one such example. Birth is painful, Flayn. More than I can properly describe.”

“Oh, but isn’t it worth it?” Flayn said with a pout. She held up the bright-eyed child. “I mean, look at him!”

“Yes, of course. He is precious to me, and worth all the sacrifice.” 

It was quiet as they enjoyed tea. One of the doors to the terrace crept open, and boots clicked across the floor. Seteth appeared before both of them with a nod and a slight smile. He stood next to the table, his hands behind his back. 

“I was not aware of where you two were, but then I recalled Flayn mentioning tea with a prince…” he said with a chuckle. “That is when I assumed this is where you would both be.” 

“Did you need something, Brother?” Flayn asked. 

“I came with a report for the archbishop.” Seteth nodded. He turned to Byleth. “We have located Audrina in an enemy stronghold in what used to be Duscur territory. They are surveying how we may best retrieve her.” 

Byleth sighed and nodded. “Yes, this is good news. I wish for the child to return to the monastery. She should’ve never been taken, but I suppose that is my own fault and failure.” 

It was silent. Seteth stepped to Flayn’s side and looked at her, hands still behind his back. “Flayn, would you mind giving the archbishop and I a moment alone?” 

“Oh, of course.” Flayn stood, Jeralt still in her arms. Byleth smiled at her, his eyes hollow. 

“You’re free to spend some more time with him in my quarters. I have something there I wish to give you, something I found while at the market the other day. Wait for me there,” he said. 

“Oh, thank you, Professor!” she cheered. She made for the door. “We’ll be on our way!” 

The terrace door clicked shut, and only the two men that remained. Byleth sighed and stood, making his way toward the terrace. He leaned on the edge as Seteth appeared next to him. It was quiet, the birds chirping overhead. 

“What’s on your mind, Seteth?” Byleth said. “There must be something, considering you sent Flayn away.” 

Seteth nodded. “You seem weary. Your vigor is waning, though your work ethic is not.” 

“This much is true. I cannot cease my work. Dimitri and Manuela forced me to halve my schedule for my body to rest, but there is still much to be done. I can’t lounge around forever with the church and kingdom in need of guidance.” 

“I understand well the need for prudence. However, you were in need of rest. It was not an illness, but it was still a reckoning on your body to give birth.” 

“Yes. I don’t have much room to breathe. I know I get stares from my old comrades when I come to council with a child in tow. It’s not as though I don’t want aid...it’s just too dangerous.” 

Seteth nodded. “I agree. You’re doing what’s best for your son, and that is truly admirable. The sacrifices you and Dimitri are making are immense. Yet you both push onward.” 

“Thank you, Seteth. I wonder sometimes if what I’m doing is for the best…” Byleth sighed and tilted his head to gaze at the sky. “I hope and pray it is.” 

“You remind me of myself. I live and breathe for Flayn. Her well being comes before all else. My strictness has waned a bit since the war’s end, but my heart is no less full of worry for her.” 

“I’ll admit, I used to think your strictness over Flayn was a bit excessive. Then I learned the truth, and now, with a child of my own, I fully understand it.” 

“Parenthood is the only true way to understand those sorts of feelings. Flayn’s life was endangered, and I always blamed myself. I see it in the way you carry yourself, you are no different.” 

Byleth swallowed a lump in his throat as his grip on the edge of the terrace tightened. “Yes. I blame myself for becoming an easy target. If only I had stayed in my chambers, it wouldn’t have happened. I know there are those that don’t like me. Yet, at that point, it was the only time I wasn’t physically able to fight back. I feel guilt over it. The shock put strain on my body, and I was trapped in the circumstances. If anything is wrong with my son, I’ll always blame myself.” 

“I understand why you say that. I share feelings like that in regards to Flayn. However, do know that you were a victim in it all as well, Byleth. The blame of burden isn’t yours to bear.” 

“Oh…” Byleth said with surprise. “You haven’t spoken my name in the longest time.” 

Seteth nodded with a warm smile. “Beyond the formalities, you, Flayn, Rhea, and I are family in an esoteric sense. Not only by blood, but by bond. We’ve forged a path to the future together, fought together, mourned and laughed together. Wherever you go, we will follow.” 

“Thank you, Seteth. I appreciate your words more than I can properly articulate.” 

“Anytime. I am always here for a chat. One father to another.” 

**-0-**

The courtyard of the former officer’s academy classrooms was quiet. Dimitri sighed and rotated his shoulder after finishing training with Dedue. He made the walk to the dining hall after lingering in the training grounds alone for a few extra minutes. Dedue offered to retrieve Byleth for dinner, and Dimitri let him go. Memories washed through the king, all of peaceful days as a student. 

The ghost of his professor standing in front of the Blue Lions classroom manifested. Byleth’s warm smile greeted every student with a nod, a slowly growing roster over the months. His popularity and skill were unrivaled, and students fought to be taught by him. They fought for his attention. In the end, there was only one person that got it for eternity. Dimitri furrowed his brow and stared at the closed door of the classroom. A voice snapped him away from it. 

“Your kingliness!” Sylvain called out. “Getting sentimental?” 

Dimitri turned around. “Oh, Sylvain. I didn’t know you were here at the monastery.” 

“Professor asked that Felix and I keep him updated on what’s going on in our territories. I could’ve sent a messenger, but I thought I’d use it as an excuse to pay a visit.” 

“It is nice to see you again. I was just on my way to the dining hall.” 

“So was I! Hey, share a meal with me just like old times.” 

They walked together toward the dining hall. “How are things?” Dimitri asked. 

“Well, for the most part. There was one stray demonic beast that attacked a village in Gautier territory, but it was weak and easily dealt with. I think it was a rogue thing. It was way too easy not to be.” 

“If you ever need aid, do not hesitate to request it from either the church or the kingdom capital. We will do our best to assist you.” 

“Thanks. It’s nice to know you’ve got our backs.” Sylvain put his arms behind his head. “So, how are things with Byleth?” 

Dimitri shrugged with a sigh. “He is doing better. I had to force him into bed rest. He refused to slow down after our son was born. It was worrying, and still is. He is so stubborn.” 

“The day I was in Fhirdiad with Felix we found him in his office with the kid next to him. It wasn’t long after he gave birth. He’s a tough one.” 

“Yes. I look after Jeralt when I can, but the kingdom keeps me busy. I wish there was something I could do to really ease him, to give him an enjoyable evening without stress.”

“Hmmm...I think that’s what’s called an old fashioned date night,” Sylvain said with a smile. “I pull it out for Felix sometimes. He’ll grumble about it, but I know he likes it.” 

The door to the dining hall opened as Dimitri let out a light sigh. “I should know by now you’re the master of these things.” 

“Yeah. Old Sylvain has got your back, your kingliness. Remember in our academy days when I got that girl you asked out to hate you? Not an easy task, getting a girl to hate the crown prince. But, hey, I got it done.”

“Oh, yes. That was a peculiar situation.” 

Together, they sat at one of the tables, the room mostly empty. Sylvain leaned on the table. “For Byleth, I’d say keep it simple. He’s a serious guy, but he’s got a softie side. Maybe make it romantic instead of hot and spicy. Try picking some flowers for him. He was always in the greenhouse back in the day.” 

“That is true. He loves flowers, and used to buy them for everyone when it was their birthday.” 

“Yeah, I remember! Can’t go wrong with that. Maybe have his favorite dinner set up on the terrace too. After dinner, I usually go into seduction mode to raise the heat. Poke buttons, you know? Though, if you did manage to turn him on, you might knock him up again, so there’s that…” 

“Sylvain!” Dimitri exclaimed, his face aflame. “Must you speak in such terms?” 

“I only tease, Dimitri. Even so, that whole thing has _unplanned_ written all over it.” 

It was quiet. The king shifted on the bench, his cheeks sore from embarrassment. “Well...it was. Byleth used his magic skills to forge a bracelet to prevent conception. It worked fine...until it snapped.” 

Sylvain nodded with a knowing smirk. “I’m guessing you snapped that bracelet while in bed, and neither of you noticed.” 

_“Don’t tell Byleth,”_ Dimitri insisted. He nodded, his eyes low. “But, yes, I do think I’m the one that snapped the bracelet when I grabbed his hand, I think one of my fingers got caught in the chain and well--you know the rest. It was an accident, though.” 

“Hah, I knew it! Your strength is unbelievable. You really _did_ knock him up. And he tried to prevent it too!” 

“Are you still talking about how “preggers” I was, Sylvain?” Byleth interjected, walking up to the table with a raised brow. The two men sitting down startled, a blush on Dimitri’s cheeks. 

“Uh...Hey, Professor! How long have you been standing there?” Sylvain asked. 

“Long enough…” He sighed and took a seat. “Flayn is watching the little one.” 

Dimitri nodded. “That is kind of her.” 

“She _begged._ As a father in need of a break, I’m surprised I wasn’t the one begging her instead.” 

“It’s Dimitri’s fault,” Sylvain said, pointing a playful finger. 

Byleth smiled softly and sat next to Dimitri, his regal clothing piling around him. “Of course it is.” 

“Wait--What!?” Dimitri exclaimed. 

“I figured you snapped that bracelet. I never said anything about it, because it doesn’t matter much now. I thought about it a few times, and it's only your brute strength that could’ve done something like that.”

“W-Well…” 

Sylvain’s laughter filled the space, one hand strewn over his stomach. “I’m so glad I convinced Felix to let me come to the monastery instead of a messenger. It doesn’t get any better than this. I mean, just look at how red Dimitri’s face is!” 

“You laugh Sylvain, but isn’t it ironic that the one student I had to chastise for skirt chasing married a man?” Byleth replied, holding a teacup up to his lips. 

“Oh...Well, you got me there.” 

“How the tables have turned, Sylvain,” Dimitri interjected. “Now you’re the one in the hot seat.” 

“Yeah. Skirt chasing was a hobby...and--Felix is...uh...my soulmate….” Sylvain mumbled with a blush. Byleth chuckled and finished drinking his tea, amused by how flustered Sylvain was with a single sentence. 

“I only tease. You two always seemed to understand each other the most during the war and in the academy days. It was a surprise when you two announced your marriage, not because it was Felix, but because of your flirtatious tendencies with women.” 

“I get it. It was no surprise you two got married after the war. The surprise was the kid. We didn’t know you could have kids.” 

“Yes. I kept it quiet, and only told Dimitri when he proposed to me.” 

Dimitri nodded with a slight smile and looked at Byleth. “It was a pleasant surprise to have a son with him.” 

“Awww. You two are cute.” Sylvain put a fork of food in his mouth. He crunched, but kept talking. “Speaking of which, that kid is the heir to the throne. Nobody knows he exists. When are the people going to find out? When will you tell them?” 

“Once the threats of Those Who Slither in the Dark are taken care of. Some of our enemies are aware Byleth and I have a child, which is a cause for concern. They tried to assassinate Byleth while he was expecting in hopes it would kill the archbishop and the heir to Faerghus in one fell swoop. The prisoner behind it admitted as much.” 

“Damn. That’s rough…” 

Byleth nodded with a frown. “I know the kingdom won’t understand me announcing an heir. They won’t likely believe I gave birth to him. He has the Crest of Blaiddyd, which puts to rest the debate of whether or not he’s Dimitri’s child. But...they’ll likely believe the child is from a mistress. It’s not the most pleasant feeling, given that he’s my flesh and blood also, but it won’t get in the way of royal succession.” 

“He has the Crest of Flames also, though. And he shares your eye color,” Dimitri argued softly.

“Wait a minute…” Sylvain said, his eyes wide. “He’s got _two_ crests?” 

“Yes.” Byleth bit his lip. “He was born with a crest from each parent. I’ve had Hanneman examine him, because he’s not a normal child by any means. I worry about it constantly.” 

“These crests are a curse. That could spell trouble if our enemies want to use him for his blood, just like they did Flayn.”

“I agree. What cost it will come to him...I cannot say. It can be misfortune or a boon, just as all crests are.” 

“We should try our best to work crests out of society. It’s easier said than done, but if we lay the foundation…” 

“The future generation can carry on what we begin…” Dimitri finished. 

Sylvain nodded and put his hands behind his head. “Exactly.”

“Since you’re here, Sylvain, perhaps we can discuss some possibilities in reforming the crest system over dinner.”

“I’d love that, your kingliness.”

The group talked over possibilities and hopes for the future. Byleth was uneasy at first without his son curled into his chest, but it soon eased at reminding himself he was in good hands. He worried and worried over his family, and as the days passed, understood Seteth’s plight more. To think his child was at risk of being in danger was an unbearable thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a couple weeks since an update, I've actually been writing this story out of order! lol I'm almost to the point where I'll piece it all together. 
> 
> Thank you for all comments and kudos! :)


	14. Star in the Night

The sunset was peaceful, the light filtering through the windows of the archbishop’s chambers. Byleth was alone after thanking Flayn with a smile and charm bracelet from the market, his short break from parenting over. He was relieved. Only his eyes could discern that his son was truly safe. Despite that, dinner without extra weight on his chest was still more soothing than he’d admit. 

Byleth stood by the window, still dressed in his regal robes. The infant was asleep in the bassinet, the room quiet as always. No cries, coos, or giggles. It was a normal evening in the Blaiddyd family household. Except for the fact Dimitri disappeared, stating he had a few errands to take care of. He wouldn’t specify what, which made Byleth curious. It wasn’t fought, and Byleth let him go without question. The trust was unbreakable between them, but he would prefer to know what his husband was up to. 

Lost in thought, the minutes passed. His strides in church reformation were praised across the kingdom, and he was admired by the masses as a war hero and a leader. Not only that, he’d married the savoir king, making him all the more well-loved. Even though the praise was immense, criticisms still made its way to him through the grapevine. There were questions of an heir, if Dimitri would take a mistress to continue the royal bloodline, and speculation the marriage was politically motivated to secure Dimitri’s authority over the church. After that was said and done, they fully expected Dimitri to announce a divorce, or a child produced through a mistress. 

Rather than become angry over it, Byleth was hurt. The criticism was digging into the very core of his livelihood, into the place he felt most secure. The whispers wouldn’t change anything, but it was a bother in the back of Byleth’s mind. He was no longer a mercenary for hire under a seasoned father, he couldn’t brush off what others said so easily. He had the weight of the continent on his shoulders, and people he was sworn to serve. 

If only they understood the pain and suffering he had endured before, during, and after his son’s birth. Perhaps it would’ve been better to allow the public to see him during pregnancy to _prove_ it was so, and warn any adversaries if they came near him or the child it would be their throats. Byleth never wanted to, he lacked trust in the public, in the looming aftermath of war. Beyond that, he was embarrassed to let others see him that way, vulnerable and in need of care. 

Whatever the best path could’ve been, it was no use thinking about it. The path he was on was the long road, the road he and his husband had chosen. It was time to follow it. 

The door creaked open. Byleth whipped around, on alert at the sudden noise. He eased when it was Dimtri. A bouquet of white and red roses were in his hand. With a smile, he walked over and presented them. Byleth flushed and took them, bringing them to his nose. 

“Why the floral arrangement, my love?” he asked. “Is there something I’m forgetting?” 

Dimitri kissed his cheek. “Not at all. Can’t a husband show some appreciation without the need for a special day on the calendar?” 

“Oh...I see. Thank you very much. They’re lovely.” 

“Of course. I just wanted to find a way to thank you for all that you do.”

A blush formed along Byleth’s skin. He hugged the bouquet to his chest. “I don’t do much.” 

“Are you serious? You lead the church, aid me in serving the kingdom, and take care of our son.” 

“Dimitri…” 

“Listen, I want to give you nice time tonight. Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. We might not be able to go far, but for now, I am here to relax you.” 

It was quiet. Byleth was flustered at being put on the spot, having a night given to him so easily. He shifted on his feet and brushed through his bangs, unsure of what to say. A sigh left his lips. “Well...perhaps just a bath?” 

“Of course.” Dimitri smiled and opened the door to the bath. “It will be ready in a few minutes.” 

After some time waiting, Byleth crept into the bathroom after making sure his son was still asleep. He stood over his husband tending to the bath and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dimitri’s head tilted, his eyepatch coming into view. Byleth hooked a finger around the strap and pulled it off, placing it on the vanity. He leaned down to speak in his ear. 

“Join me, dear husband,” he whispered. 

The couple undressed and climbed into the bathtub. Byleth leaned back into Dimitri’s chest as arms wrapped around him. The soft scent of roses relaxed his stiff muscles and eased his mind. His eyes closed as the quiet continued. 

“I love you,” he mumbled, his chin sinking to the edge of the water. 

“I love you too,” Dimitri replied. He adjusted and pulled Byleth’s limp, relaxed body with him. 

“I’m so tired…” 

“Beloved, you need more rest than you get.” 

“I only rest when forced.” 

“Yes, that is the truth. You are so stubborn.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No need to apologize. I just worry about you.” 

It was quiet. Byleth’s mind wandered to reports that were earlier on his desk, Edelgard’s daughter, his own son. The thoughts were so engrossing that he nearly forgot he wasn’t alone, and startled when Dimitri’s hand swiped his thigh. It took Dimitri off guard, and he leaned forward. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

Byleth shook his head and brought his knees to his chest. “I’m fine. I was just thinking, and...I nearly forgot you were there. I’m sorry, my love.” 

“It must’ve been quite the heavy topic to forget your surroundings like that.” 

“Well, perhaps. I was thinking of how we got reports of Audrina’s location. I can’t help but think it’s my fault she was taken. Even so, was she happy here? She didn’t like me, which I can respect, but...all I want is for innocent children to live in peace. I don’t want the actions of the parents to have bearing on the children having happiness. I blame myself for not doing enough. I’m the highest servant of the goddess, I _must_ be better than this. ” 

The water rippled as Dimitri cupped Byleth’s shoulder. He sighed. “It was not your fault, Byleth. I understand you look back and see those events with a different lens now, knowing what we know. Just remember _our_ situation at the time. You were at the end of your pregnancy when an assassination attempt was tried against you. That was heavy stress on you and our son, and you went into labor not even a day later. What could you have done, considering that? They knew of the chaos they created and used it to take the child. They are at fault, not you, not us.”

“I’m the archbishop. It’s my duty to protect this land, its people, and its faith.” 

“Of course. It is mine as well. We are not all powerful, though. We cannot anticipate and prevent everything possible. We will get the child back and destroy these fiends.” Dimitri hugged him from behind. “I told you I wanted you to relax. This is too heavy a topic for tonight.” 

“Yes. You did say you wanted this night to be about me…” 

“Of course. Is a bath all you wanted? There must be more than that.” 

Byleth shrugged. “I like getting the chance to talk like this. We don’t get it often.” 

“I do as well. Life keeps us busy, you and I. Our times alone are the only moments we are nothing more than a married couple.” 

“That is true…” Byleth shifted so he was half-way sitting on his husband’s lap, a layer of water between their skin. He cupped his shoulders and stared up at him. A blush accompanied furrowed brows. “Dimitri, I…” 

Arms wrapped around Byleth’s back. Dimitri tilted his head, his bangs revealing part of his scarred eyelid. “Yes?” he said. “It seems you have something on your mind.” 

“It’s nothing too complex...more of a confession as a spouse.” 

“Oh?” 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit this, but...I--really enjoyed being with child. It’s painful, the birth was agonizing, but now I look at it differently. Perhaps my vision is rose-tinted and my feelings are misdirected. However, during that time, you were gone and I was managing the church...it was a bit lonely. Even so, I always had the little one with me, always knew he was there. I was aware a piece of you was always with me, and I...found comfort in that. To know our love made something so pure, it kept me going.” 

“For a former boar prince and an ashen demon, we made something so beautiful and innocent together.” 

“Yes. Though, I think maybe the stress of trying to protect Jeralt is what makes me think about those days. I suppose it would be easier if we were in the same place at the same time. We’re easier to tear apart now that he’s born.” 

Dimitri nodded and brushed through Byleth’s bangs. “I understand. Just know that I will protect you both. And, to be honest, there are others that are looking after him as well.”

“I know…” Byleth frowned. “But it’s not their burden to bear. I’m his father.” 

“My beloved, you don’t have to do it all alone. To have a break, to ask for a favor, these are not burdens.” 

“You’re right.” 

It was silent as Byleth kept his hands on his husband’s chest. He rubbed up and down, lost in thought. The blush still burned on his cheeks as he let the remaining thoughts in his mind slip free. “One day, when these slithering fiends are dealt with, and the land is at peace, perhaps we could...have another little one?”

Dimitri blushed, a slight smile on his lips. He kissed Byleth’s cheek, his hair brushing along skin. “I would like that, Byleth.” 

“Lovely. Until then...I’ll keep wearing this necklace.” 

“If you are wearing it now, then perhaps--if you are not too tired…” 

“To leave the tub, only to have to get back in…” Byleth said with a frown. 

“Who said we would have to go anywhere?” 

“O-Oh…” 

Byleth was pushed back to the other side of the tube by the looming figure of his husband. Something sparked with him. He warped arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Dimitri groaned into it, but soon retreated to place affection along his jawline. 

“I told you I wanted you to relax…” he said. “So allow me to do the work.” 

“Alright…” Byleth replied with a blush. 

Time passed, and the intimacy escalated. All else was drowned out when they were wrapped in each other during a moment of reprieve. Byleth exhaled and lulled his head, pleased by the treatment he was receiving. A calloused hand cupped his cheek as the water rippled around them. Dimitri moved slowly, Byleth’s legs loosely wrapped around his hips. 

“Always so quiet in everything that you do…” he mumbled. “It is sometimes hard to tell if you like what I am doing to you.” 

“I do. I adore it,” Byleth said with a smile. 

“That is reassuring. I have learned to read you better, but sometimes you are still a tricky one…” 

“I’m sorry, my love.” 

“No need to apologize. It is one of the many things I love about you.” 

Byleth smiled into a kiss. The intimacy kept escalating, and they were soon tangled in a web of their own movements. A hand tangled in the hair at the back of Dimitri’s head as weight pushed into Byleth’s cove at the far end of the tub. Dimitri gripped the sides and kept steady. It was reprieve for Byleth, and the stresses of the day faded. 

A knock from a far-off door shattered it all. 

It took a moment for Byleth to realize it had happened. He exhaled and spoke before a kiss landed on his lips. “Dimitri…” 

“Beloved…” he mumbled back, unaware of anything but their intimacy. 

“I think someone…” 

“Professor!” Flayn’s muffled voice came through two doors, the bath and the main door to his chambers. “My brother wishes to meet with you! He says it is urgent!” 

Byleth jostled and pushed on Dimitri’s chest. He bit his lip as his husband failed to stop. An exhale escaped his lips to tame his body’s pleased reactions. “Dimitri!” 

“You are so wonderful, Byleth. So warm and comforting…” 

“Enough with the poetic prose. Didn’t you hear that?” 

The door to the chambers opened. Clicks of shoes echoed outside the bath. “Professor? Are you not here? My brother said you had retired to your chambers already…” 

“I’m here! I’m just in the bath!” Byleth called out. Dimitri halted suddenly, which made them both gasp at the sudden change in pace. 

“Oh! My apologies for intruding. Did you hear what I said?” 

“Yes. I’ll be out in a moment to speak with you.” 

“Alright. I shall--Oh! It is the prince! Professor, allow me to hold him! He is looking at me with those darling eyes!” 

Byleth grunted, still trapped beneath his awestruck husband. “Of course you may hold him. I’ll be there soon.” He beat on Dimitri’s shoulder with a mixture between a huff and a whine. “Dimitri, get _out_ of me!” he said in a harsh whisper. 

The water rippled and the weight lifted. Dimitri blushed and leaned against the opposite end of the tub. “I am sorry, beloved…” 

“Took you long enough…” Byleth mumbled, rising from the tub. He dressed in his casual robes, a long white shirt cut off at the knees, tan slacks, and a leather belt around the chest. It wasn’t much different than his old professor’s clothing, but his mind brushed it away. There was no time to think about the past. There never was, sometimes to his dismay. 

A comb ran through Byleth’s hair. He turned around with a hand on his hip and looked at Dimitri still in the tub. “Are you going to get moving, my love?” he asked with a raised brow. 

Dimitri groaned, hunched over the edge of the tub with his back arched. “I am not ready…” he admitted. 

“Oh, you poor thing…” Byleth teased with mock sympathy. “Join us promptly, will you, Your Majesty?” 

“I will try…” 

The door was cracked open, and Byleth slipped through. Flayn sat on the edge of his bed, a smiling infant in her arms. She gazed up at him with a joyous expression. He reflected joy of his own, his arms crossed. It faded when he recalled why she was there in the first place. 

“What is urgent? Seteth wouldn’t mention anything that didn’t need immediate attention at this time of night,” he said. 

Flayn shook her head. “He did not mention it to me. He only asked for you to join him in the council room.”

“I see. Will you watch over Jeralt for me?”

“Of course!” 

Byleth knocked on the door to the bath. “Come, Dimitri. We’re needed.”

The door creaked open a few minutes later, Dimitri dressed on the other side. He rubbed his eye and blinked, which prompted a soft sigh from his husband. They left together, the clock reading an hour before midnight. 

**-0-**

The room was sparsely populated by the time the royal couple arrived. Rhea and Seteth were together, joined by Hanneman and a groggy Manuela. Dedue bowed to them as they entered, and the rest nodded. Byleth furrowed his brow. For the hour before midnight, the room was full. Everyone took a seat at the long table. 

“My apologies, Your Grace, Your Majesty. I would not have called upon you had I not thought it was urgent,” Seteth said. “We have received word through our spies that those who slither in the dark have allied with disgruntled former imperialists. They are planning what they consider a “counterattack” on the kingdom and church for the defeat of their late Emperor.” 

“The target is the monastery, isn’t it?” Byleth said, pinching the bridge of his nose with a stressed sigh. 

“Unfortunately, yes. Hence, the urgent meeting.” 

“How long until this force executes its plans?” 

“That is yet unknown. The spies couldn’t get an exact date, so it would be wise to plan our defenses as soon as possible.” 

Hanneman placed fingers on his chin. “The reports also state they are using artificial crest stones to create demonic beasts for their army. They are dangerous in large numbers, but never as powerful as those made with authentic stones. They may wish to steal the crest stones in the holy mausoleum to create true, more powerful beasts.” 

“This is awful. These imperial sympathizers allying with fiends. Why? The war is over,” Manuela said with dismay. 

“Edelgard did the same. She allied with those who slither in the dark to further her cause. How apparent she made it as to whether or not she truly aligned with their ideals is unknown. The imperial sympathizers and the slitherers seem to both think that she was supportive of the link between them…” Seteth replied. “The specifics matter not. What is important is knowing they are planning an attack.” 

“Is there any other reason to attack this monastery?” Dimitri asked. “It is one of the most well defended locations in the kingdom. If they want to cause havoc, why not target smaller villages first and work their way here?” 

“They may be hoping they can recreate Edelgard’s siege in 1181. However, we have received word they are spreading information about “rare blood” being among the church members. Those who slither in the dark took a keen interest in Flayn’s blood many years ago.”

Byleth sucked air in between his teeth. He hesitated before allowing himself to speak freely. “Is it possible they want my son’s blood as well?” 

It was silent. Rhea frowned with a furrowed brow. “The prisoner that carried out the assassination attempt admitted to being aware of the child's existence, did they not? That news likely spread among their ranks.” 

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out a child parented by the archbishop and the king is powerful. Given my status as the progenitor god, that only makes my blood, and my child’s blood, more desirable. They know they can’t kidnap me, but an infant…” 

“At dawn, I will leave for Fhirdiad with Dedue,” Dimitri interjected. “We will mobilize kingdom reserve troops and march them back here as quickly as we can for bolstered defenses.” 

Seteth nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty. That would be most helpful.” 

“We'll mobilize the Knight of Serios starting at dawn. We shall place all of our focus on tightening defense, securing weak spots, readying our war resources…” Byleth said. “It’s possible once this attack fails, the groups will fall apart. However, I don’t want another travesty such as the one that occurred in 1181. If need be, I will signal an order for the citizens to evacuate the grounds, leaving only soldiers and members of the church.” 

“An unfortunate prospect, but one I do not disagree with. It may prove necessary.” 

“Seteth, if I could read the report overnight, I shall give you my decision in the morning as to whether we should evacuate citizens within the coming day. Until then, do you believe what we plan to do is enough?” 

“I do. Bringing in kingdom soldiers will be added protection against this threat. All we can do for now is prepare while we await more information from our spies.” 

“Your Majesty, what of the prince?” Dedue asked. “If it proves to be unsafe here, where will he go?” 

Dimitri frowned. “He may need to be moved to Fhirdiad. However, I would not want him in the palace when I am not present. A tricky situation, but Byleth and I will discuss our options tonight. Can we plan to meet again at dawn before I leave?”

“Yes, that would work best. Read over the reports, discuss options, and we will convene again in the morning,” Seteth said, standing from his chair. “I shall work to see if there is any more information I can gather about the situation for the next time we meet.” 

**-0-**

Byleth paced the archbishop's quarters, Jeralt in Dimitri’s lap. The report just read was sinking into his mind, and thoughts were racing at lightning speed. Dimitri stayed quiet, bouncing the now three-month old child. The infant smiled with glee. It was quiet, the crackling warmth of the fire no comfort. 

“What are we going to do with Jeralt?” Byleth asked. He ruffled his hair, stress eating his features. “He cannot stay here during an attempted siege.” 

“He must be taken somewhere else, somewhere safe,” Dimitri replied. 

“Yes, but where? With whom?” 

“Byleth, if you wish to take Jeralt and go into hiding, I won’t try to stop you.” 

The archbishop startled. He stopped his pacing. “Dimitri, you _cannot_ be suggesting that I abandon my post! Not only as the leader of this church, but as the king’s husband, a former war general for the kingdom army...it would be cowardice and shame for me to abandon my place here at the Church of Seiros. Rhea entrusted her duties to me. She fought until her capture in 1181, as she should have. I will do the same.” 

“I understand. I assumed you would say as much, and I agree. Yet, if you ever reach that point, it won’t be my place to stop you. That is all I am saying.” 

“Why not?” 

Dimitri shook his head with a furrowed brow. “I must be a king before a human. I do not wish to leave him, but if my kingdom calls, I must. My father did the same, and he...left me. However, your connection with him is different from mine. You gave birth to him. I cannot claim to understand what that feels like. So, if you find that bond compels you to act a certain way, who am I to keep you from it?”

It was quiet. Byleth swallowed, and pain rippled down his back. “I _am_ tempted to hide away with him. However, that is heresy to my sacred duties. I am fused with Sothis herself, I must protect this land as the progenitor god. I must protect her children, her people, her faith. I care about everything we have built for this kingdom. I will fight to protect it. I love my son with my very soul, and want to be with him always. However, I must acknowledge that I am needed, and this fight is one I will engage in for his sake also.” 

“Byleth, I respect you for your words and your fealty. Not just as your husband, but as king of this land, thank you. You are my everything. If I must fight for our kingdom, I want it to be with you, _for you_ , and for our son as well.”

“Now that we’ve agreed we’re both fighting this battle, what will we do with him?” 

“Flayn is likely a target also. Is she planning to stay and fight?” 

“I’m not sure. What do you have in mind?” 

Dimitri shrugged and adjusted the infant in his lap. “If she does not wish to stay at the monastery, then would it be possible for her and Jeralt to leave, accompanied with a small group of guards? Seteth has a cottage on the Rhodos Coast, right? Perhaps they can reside there temporarily until the threat is gone.” 

“That is possible…” Byleth sighed. “Rhea is not well enough to fight as she once could. I worry for her safety should she be here when they attack. If that plan were to be executed, I would ask that she accompany them.” 

“We can trust them with our son, Byleth. They are your family.” 

“I know, I…” He paused, an ache welling in his chest. “Dimitri, please...I need some time alone to think. I’ll be on the terrace should you need me…”

“My beloved…” Dimitri frowned, but didn’t argue. “Of course. I am here for you, and I love you. Do not forget it.” 

“I...love you too. I’ll be back soon.” 

The breeze was warm on the terrace. Byleth stood on the edge, gazing up at the stars. He crossed his arms at his chest, pain eating him alive. To bear separated from his son was unbearable thought, and yet, it was inevitable. They had been together since his birth, since even his conception, and Byleth was tortured by leaving that bond unattended for even a day. He only knew his son was truly safe when his eyes were on him. During short meetings, with Flayn watching him, Byleth was tortured by being away. Breaks were refreshing, sometimes enjoyable, but layered with guilt. He could only rest easy when he or Dimitri were present. 

To realize that he and Dimitri would be at the monastery while their son was days away was agony. Byleth would readily endure birth a thousand times in exchange for being spared the anguish of having his unmoving heart ripped from his chest. 

It made him angry, and rustled the Ashen Demon within him. Until the demon could be uncaged, the angst converted into anxiety and upset. For the first time in a long while, Byleth couldn’t hold back. Once an emotionless figure, he was overflowing with stimulation. His hand covered his mouth and he sobbed, tears dampening his shirt. 

It went on for several minutes, as he stood alone in the dark. Byleth settled, and wiped his cheeks. Movement sounded from the other end of the terrace, and he was quick to shift his feet. Rhea stood behind him, her hair down and her white dress a star in the night. She stared at him with furrowed brows. 

“I will take the child,” she said. “We will travel to the Rhodos Coast with Flayn, and await your word that the monastery is safe for our return.” 

“Did you hear my conversation with Dimitri?” he said, his voice weak. 

“My apologies. I did not mean to eavesdrop. I only wanted to check on you, and I heard it from outside the door. When you told him you needed time alone, I knew something was wrong. I awaited the right time to come to you.” 

“It is not your burden to bear, Rhea.” 

“You did not need to save me from Enbarr, or give me a place in the church that I left to you. Furthermore, you did not need to trade five years of your life in slumber to rescue me all that time ago. You have been there for me always. I care about you like a mother would, Byleth. We are family. Allow me to watch over the little one in your stead.” 

Byleth nodded and hung his head. “That would be our best option. Thank you, Rhea.” 

“Of course. And you are right about me. It would not be safe for me to be here either. It is also in my best interest to leave the monastery for the time being.” 

“This pain...I cannot bear it. The thought of leaving him tears me apart.” 

Rhea frowned and cupped Byleth’s shoulder. “My dear...I cannot imagine. I have never given birth to a child. Though, I will say, your mother said similar things before she passed her life to you.” 

“I blame myself. I am the reason both of my parents died. I couldn’t do anything to save my father, and my mother died in childbirth...” 

“Byleth, it was _her_ decision,” she argued with a gentle, patient voice. “And your father, he would have taken the blade for you, if it meant you were safe. You know that.” 

“I know. I just...I want my son to have his parents. I am so fearful he’ll lose us. Dimitri and I grew up each missing one parent. And our fathers were both brutally murdered before our very eyes.” 

“You are a wonderful father, Byleth. But even you need a shoulder to lean on, and an ear to hear your troubles. You cannot bear this all alone. Allow your family shoulder some of it for you. You have shouldered our woes enough. It is time for us to return the favor.”

Tears filled Byleth’s eyes once again. He covered his mouth to stifle the outburst. Rhea sighed and wrapped him in a tight embrace, holding him close. He cried into her shoulder, releasing emotions long buried. After a while, she hummed a sweet song to him, a song he’d first heard long ago. He held on for some time, scared to let her go. Once he let go of her, she would be leaving along with those he cared for the most. 


	15. House Blaiddyd's Grace

It was quiet in the dimly lit quarters of the archbishop. The door creaked open, and Byleth walked through with an exhausted frown and irritated eyes. Dimitri was in their bed, the infant still in his arms. A black piece of fabric waved around in Jeralt’s hands as he shook it with curiosity. Byleth furrowed his brow and drew closer. The mystery resolved itself when he realized his husband’s eyepatch was gone and had moved into his son’s hold. He smiled, though it didn’t reach the rest of his expression. 

“He kept trying to pull it, so I just let him have it,” Dimitri said. “I have more of them.” 

“How sweet…” Byleth mumbled, his voice weak. 

“Byleth...have you been crying?” 

“I...I’m sorry.” 

“No need to apologize. I know this is stressful, but...it won’t be for long.” 

The bed dipped as Byleth shook his head. He put out his arms, and the child was passed to him. It was silent as he nuzzled his nose into his hair, and placed a soft kiss on his head. Jeralt seemed to pay no mind, still enthralled by the eyepatch in his hand. He shook it a few times as he was pulled into Byleth’s chest. 

“I will be back within the week,” Dimitri said. 

Byleth exhaled, too exhausted to express dismay. “He’ll be gone by the time you return. Rhea and I discussed it. She’ll take him to the Rhodos Coast tomorrow evening. I shall gather supplies for their journey and pack a carriage, and they’ll slip off during the night to evade detection. Flayn will join her.”

“I see. Once this is all over, we can travel to the coast and retrieve him ourselves. Would that be alright with you?” 

“I’ll have it no other way.” 

Dimitri frowned. “Of course, Byleth.” 

“That day the assassination attempt was tried against me, I...felt the knife tear into my flesh,” Byleth admitted. He held the infant closer to his chest and rocked him, biting back tears. “It was through the power of Sothis that I was able to rewind time, and prevent it from happening. With that, I was able to save myself and our son. I tried to use the same power to save my father, but...it didn’t work. I watched my father get stabbed twice. I got stabbed similar to him...and that pain, I won’t forget it, though it technically never happened. If our child felt that pain too, I…”

Strong arms wrapped around Byleth and pulled him closer. Dimitri leaned his cheek on Byleth’s head with a sigh. The pain Byleth was exhibiting was hard to witness, and Dimitri was at a loss as to how to comfort him. After so much time bearing a blank slate, Byleth coming to show his emotions more fiercely was foreign, yet not unwelcome. 

Byleth eventually closed his eyes with his head on his husband’s shoulder, stress overcoming him. Dimitri watched their son wave around the eyepatch, each wave getting less and less energetic. The feeling of leaving them both carved a hollow hole into his heart, one that was filled with fears of the past and voices of the dead. 

Sleep evaded Dimitri, and the time was filled with thoughts of Byleth and their shared memories. He tried to pinpoint when he first saw Byleth bear his emotions in a  _ raw _ manner, in a manner Dimitri didn’t have to question. The first would easily be his father’s death, but he had gone back to stoicism not long after. The stoicism continued until after the war, until their marriage. 

Joy and pleasure were the first emotions Byleth shared with him openly, and Dimitri was forever thankful for it. Joy when they tied the knot in front of a thousand watchful eyes, and pleasure when wrapped in each other’s arms while no one was looking. The darker side of the spectrum wasn’t there. 

Dimitri thought harder. Byleth was changing, and it was intimidating. The execution was one such moment that turned the tide. It was brutal, calculated, and vengeful. It was everything Dimitri used to be. 

He tried to push the thought away, but it lingered. That woman, Katrina deserved it, just as  _ that woman _ , Edelgard, did. The parallels were pulling together, and he couldn’t stand it. Even so, Byleth retained care and compassion for the citizens, for the children, and for his family. Dimitri hadn’t always been that way. It put him at ease to see Byleth hadn’t lost kindness. 

The love they had for each other still permeated everything. Dimitri loved Byleth more each day, despite the stress and shifts in the world. The care Byleth put into their son was incredible, and Dimitri was blessed that his child was born to such an amazing person. Even so, that care and love was rooting deep into something akin to a merciless, ashen demon. 

Dimitri sighed and adjusted on the bed. He patted his son’s head and brushed a thumb over his hair. His eye drifted to the bassinet. It would be the second time Byleth was forced to pack his child’s things in three short months. Dimitri furrowed his brow as he recalled the last, which was nearly as emotional as the next was bound to be. 

**-0-**

_ “Just relax, Byleth,”  _ Dimitri begged in the archbishop’s chambers. It was hours after the assassination attempt, and the monastery was in a frenzy. “We are gathering supplies tonight and leaving in the morning. I will take care of everything.” 

Byleth dismayed, one hand cupping his swollen abdomen. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit shaken.” 

“My beloved, I understand. No need to strain yourself. Sit on the bed and tell me what needs to be done.” 

“If you don’t mind, let me stand and stretch for a little while. My legs are cramping terribly.” 

“Of course. Tell me if you need anything.” 

It was quiet as Byleth walked over to the bassinet. He pulled a blanket from within and squeezed it in his hands. He turned with a solemn expression. “Dimitri...pack this. I bought it in the market for the child and I to share when I rock them at night.” 

Dimitri walked over and took the soft fabric in hand. He nodded and folded it, storing it in a bag. He returned to Byleth, and another item was passed to him. He unfolded a white gown with gold trimming. His face flushed at how small it was. 

“I want the child to wear that after birth. It will keep them warm,” Byleth continued. He stretched his arm and slipped his fingers underneath the skirt of the bassinet. He pulled out another item and frowned. It was a cross of wood, and from it dangled stars, clouds, the moon, and in the middle, the Crest of Flames. “I made this to hang over the bassinet. I placed the Crest of Flames in the middle in hopes that it would grant our child the Goddess’s protection. It’s a bit too bulky to transport, I suppose…” 

It was quiet as Dimitri took it. He twirled it, and the items shifted. When he lifted his head, the upset on his husband’s face was clear. Dimitri hadn’t realized how much work Byleth had put into their child’s coming arrival, having been on his tour of the kingdom and traveling back and forth from Fhirdiad. He had picked up a few things from around the continent, namely a stuffed bear and an extra blanket, but it paled in comparison to Byleth’s careful preparations. Dimitri had thought ahead enough to enlist Dedue’s help in instilling a bassinet and rocking chair in his chambers at the Fhirdiad palace. He was thankful he had, given their current predicament. Yet, forcing Byleth to unravel all the nesting he had done stung Dimitri’s soul. It was clear his husband was heartbroken. 

“It will come with us,” Dimitri said. He placed it on the bookshelf above half-packed bags on the floor. 

“Leave it. It may get broken in the carriage.” 

“I will make sure it is secure during travel. You made this for our child, and it will be hung where you want it once when we get to our chambers in Fhirdiad.”

“I wanted the child to be born at the monastery…” Byleth said with a furrowed brow. He weaved his fingers together and rested them at the top of his abdomen. 

“I know. I am sorry it cannot happen the way you want.” 

Tears filled Byleth’s eyes, and it frightened Dimitri. He had never seen Byleth cry openly. When Jeralt died, it was clear Byleth was grieving, but he never bore his emotions in front of anyone else. To see tears cascading down his cheeks, to see him hitch his breath, it nearly sent Dimitri into a frenzy. He wrapped him in an embrace. The swell of their child pressed against Dimitri’s abdomen, which reminded him of the weight of the situation. It was proving to be pushing too hard on Byleth. He couldn’t hold back anymore. 

The fur on his cloak dampened as Byleth cried into his shoulder. It was full of anguish, a gasp of breath brushing along his neck every so often. Dimitri held him close, careful not to squeeze him, and rubbed his back. “My beloved, I am so sorry.” 

“You saved us from that knife…” Byleth mumbled. 

“I know it is still a shock, but please...try your best not to strain yourself. The child is nearly here.” 

“I know. I’ll give birth very soon.” 

Dimitri stiffened. “How soon?” 

“I don’t know. But it seems it won’t be pleasant for me, regardless.”

“I will do whatever needs to be done. All you have to do is say the words.” 

Byleth nodded and wiped his cheeks. “Just be there for me when the time comes.” 

“I will. I promise.” 

**-0-**

The blurred edges of twilight greeted Dimitri once he woke. He had fallen asleep with a mind full of memories, his husband’s head on his shoulder. He turned and saw the bed was empty. His eye traveled to the rocking chair, moving slowly. Byleth rocked their son, his head lulled and eyes closed. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, the wrinkled fabric exposing the upper part of his chest. Jeralt shook the eyepatch in his hand, still fascinated with it. The bed creaked as Dimitri rose. He dug into the dresser and pulled out his cloak, armor, and an extra eyepatch. His footsteps were quiet as he slipped into the bath. 

“Dimitri…” Byleth mumbled when the bath opened again. He rocked slowly, his head still limp. 

“How are you, beloved?” Dimitri asked. He plucked the infant from his husband’s arms and kissed his head. 

“I tried to feed the little one, but...I’m not making much milk. Too many years of binding myself with armor, I suppose. I had to use goat’s milk. I feel awful, like I teased him...I’m a failure.” 

It was quiet. Dimitri frowned, his heart shattered. He didn’t know where to begin, where to start on the long list of reasons why Byleth was the most successful, talented person he knew. He saved his breath. No matter how much he spoke, how much he flattered and placed affection, it wouldn’t heal the pain. 

“I love you,” Dimitri said. “Thank you for all you have done for me.” 

“I love you too.” 

“You look weak, Byleth. I worry about you constantly.”

Byleth sighed and rose from the rocking chair. “I just need to eat. I haven’t in a long while.” 

“I shall request that breakfast be brought to our chambers. Climb in bed, try to rest. The dawn is a few hours away still.”

The request was obliged. Dimitri placed the child in his arms, and soon returned with a cart of food. Dishes were piled on the table for two in the far corner of the room. Byleth sighed and placed Jeralt in the bassinet, then lit a match to light candles around the room. The couple sat together and began to eat, mostly in silence. Dimitri crunched fruit between his teeth, focusing on the texture in the absence of taste. Byleth sipped tea. He sighed and placed his cup down, nibbling on oats and yogurt. 

“You are not eating much, Byleth…” Dimitri mused aloud.

“I’m sorry…” Byleth said, his eyes closed with a frown. “My stomach is uneasy.”

Silence filled the room. Dimitri pushed fruit around his plate with his fork, his heart hammering. There was a thought lingering unspoken in his mind, and his body was already reactivating to it. Byleth raised a brow at him. He chuckled, picked his teacup up again, and sipped. For the first time all morning, his expression was light. 

“Dimitri, you don’t really think I’m with child, do you?” he teased. 

“Oh...N-No! Not at all!” Dimitri replied with a blush. 

“Your face says otherwise.” Byleth chuckled again. “Not every stomach ache is from the womb. Sorry to get your hopes up, my love. Or...did I frighten you?” 

“It was nothing, really.” 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Byleth teased again. 

Dimitri sighed with a slight smile. “You are the only one able to bring this king to his knees, Byleth.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yes. Though, I don’t mind kneeling to please you. Sometimes being nothing more than a man is all I ask for. I only get that with you.” 

“I feel the same about you…” Byleth frowned and glanced at the bassinet. “I...will struggle without you and Jeralt here. I’m not going to act like I won’t. Even so, I promise you, I will do what needs to be done for this kingdom.”

“I trust that you will, there is no question about that. But I beg of you, do not push yourself too hard. If you need rest, then please rest. If you must tend to your own health, then tend to it. I do not want to return to see you ill in bed because you overextended yourself.” 

“I will.” 

“Thank you.” Dimitri stood and walked to Byleth’s side of the table. He placed hands on the back of the chair and shifted it so it faced away from the table. Byleth startled and made noises of protest. They were ignored as Dimitri pushed his husband’s legs apart. He kneeled and curled into the space between, his head on his stomach and two hands resting on the thigh and waist. Byleth exhaled and wrapped arms around him. His cheeks were aflame, his skin tightening with surprise. 

“I must leave immediately after the meeting at dawn. We have a little over an hour before it begins,” Dimitri mumbled into Byleth’s stomach. “So here we must exchange our temporary farewells.” 

Fingers tangled in Dimitri’s hair. “It isn’t something new to us, but this feels so much more dire.” 

“I understand. We’ll escort Rhea, Flayn, and Jeralt home personally after this mess is resolved.”

“Yes. I hope this is over with quickly and without much issue. I can’t help but think the kidnapping of Audrina was a distraction in order to create this force under our noses. Under  _ my _ nose.” 

Dimitri hummed. “It could be, I won’t deny it. However, we can discuss such things with the others at the meeting. For now, may I have you to myself? We have a long day ahead of us.” 

“You can.” 

“Thank you…” 

Curled into each other, words were left unspoken for the time being. A thumb rubbed circles into Byleth’s waist and eased his tense posture. His fingers played with the loose ends of Dimitri’s hair, hands scattered along his upper back. Dimitri hummed, the sound low and deep in his chest. 

“Have you heard what the palace back in Fhirdiad refers to you as?” he mumbled, his head still on Byleth’s stomach. 

“No. Nothing too scandalous, I hope,” Byleth replied with a frown. 

“Of course not. I would never allow my advisors or servants to speak ill of you.” Dimitri paused, and his smile sank through Byleth’s skin. “They call you the _ Grace of House Blaiddyd. _ ” 

“Are you...sure? That’s quite the title.” 

“It is, well-deserved at that. You know this continent’s people are fond of bestowing titles on people. You were the Ashen Demon before. I was the Boar Prince, now the Savoir King. They call you the Grace of House Blaiddyd not only because you’re the archbishop, but because you helped revitalize the kingdom. You fought at my side, stood by me as I returned to a liberated Fhirdiad as its king. The citizens were overjoyed when the man that stood me that day was the man I offered a hand in marriage.”

“They... _ noticed _ me? I was too focused on you to realize.” 

Dimitri laughed, and it rumbled into Byleth’s chest. “Now that is quite the flattery.” 

“I hear the rumors, the speak of the kingdom. It just sometimes slips by me as I tend to other things,” Byleth said, his cheeks warm. 

“If only they knew that title fits much more than they realize. You were my saving grace, Byleth. If not for you, I would have died a gruesome, foolish death on the battlefield. I needed your guidance when I had lost myself, when I had turned into a beast. You brought  _ me _ back. You brought  _ Faerghus _ back. I was the last living member of House Blaiddyd. If I had died, perhaps you’d be ruling this land all by yourself.” 

“I wouldn’t want that…” 

Dimitri exhaled, a soft smile on his lips. “You are every bit as vital to this kingdom as I am. I hope the history books recount your glory as equal to mine.” 

“It doesn’t matter much to me, Dimitri. I just want to be with you, to enjoy our time together when we find it. Our private moments are the most powerful, and that is what no one will ever see.”

“They will get a glimpse if one day I stand on the balcony in Fhirdiad with our child in my arms, you next to me, rounded with another.” 

Byleth tensed. He scrunched a fistful of Dimitri’s hair.  _ “Dimitri!” _ he exclaimed with red cheeks. 

“Just a tease,” the king replied with a laugh. He pushed himself off the ground and kissed his husband’s forehead. “I will give you some time to get ready for the day. I cannot keep you to myself forever.” 

Fabric swayed in front of the bath vanity as Byleth dressed for the day. His finger traced the edge of his high, golden collar, the tip pricked by the edge of it. His hair was still in disarray, and he worked to remedy it by dipping his comb in water and brushing through. The circlet was added afterward, his archbishop robes complete. He stared at his vibrant eyes. No matter how much he washed his face, rubbed tonic beneath eyes, or smiled underneath the nose, his exhaustion was obvious. He had given up trying to hide it. 

His boots clicked as he made his way to the door. Before he opened it, he halted, listening to Dimitri talk through the other side. He leaned against the wood and eavesdropped. 

“Do not be too harsh on your father, Jeralt,” Dimitri said, his voice low. “He is harsh enough on himself already. Oh, but what am I saying? You would do no such thing. You are so quiet and calm, just like Byleth. I hope you never grow to have my temperament.” 

Byleth’s heart warmed, a pensive smile on his lips. With his hand on the knob, the talking started again. He waited. 

“You like being rocked like this, don’t you? I am sorry I often have no time to spend with you like this. I will be leaving you today, and when I return you won’t be here. I will miss you when we are apart. I always do, even since before you were born. Take care of your father until you go, alright? He needs you more than he needs breath. And, well, I need you too. We are so desperately in love with each other, and with you.” 

Tears were wiped off of Byleth’s cheeks, his forehead on the door. Never had he heard Dimitri speak with such soft, loving words to their son. It made his soul melt, the seas within him thrashing with a variety of emotions. He always knew Dimitri adored their son, but duty and kingdom kept him from spending as much time with him as Byleth did. He had worried Jeralt would be closer to him than Dimitri, and wanted him to be on equal grounds with his parents. That worry faded. The bonds woven between them were woven thick, and would need flames to sever. 


	16. Five Days and Five Bouquets

The meeting was quick, hectic, and full of shuffling papers. The council room was now empty, save for the king, the archbishop, and their son. Byleth pushed documents around the table and bounced his leg, sore at the endless fidgeting it had done to keep the infant happily entertained. Dimitri lifted the weight off Byleth’s thigh and planted kisses on Jeralt’s head. 

“I must be going,” he said. “I love you both.” 

“Dimitri, I--” Byleth went to say something, but didn’t know what. He swallowed and pointed his head down, fiddling with a quill in his hand. 

“Everything will be fine. I will be back by the end of the week.” 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying not to...get upset. It’s difficult.” 

“I understand. No need to hide your emotions from me. I never hid mine from you, and I still don’t to this day.” 

Byleth sighed and stood. He kissed his husband’s cheek and wrapped arms around him. “Be safe. I will pack Jeralt’s things tonight and see him off along with Rhea and Flayn.” 

Tiny fingers wrapped around Byleth’s hair and tugged. Dimitri pulled them away with a slight smile. “He will be well taken care of. Let us hope he won’t tug on their long hair too much. It seems to be a new fascination of his.” 

“I know. I try to get him to stop, but…”

Dimitri smiled as the tiny hand formed a fist around his bangs. “I cannot scold him. It is so adorable, I cannot force myself to make him stop.” 

“He has  _ your _ strength, remember. If he ends up tugging your hair out, it’s on you,” Byleth said with a chuckle. 

“I suppose this is true.” He kissed his son’s head again and passed him to Byleth. The fist was untangled from his hair, and was met with a look of dismay from two tiny eyes. Dimitri frowned with a sigh. “Jeralt, please do not _ look _ at me like that.” 

“I see who is going to be the parent that has to say  _ no _ to things that the other one doesn’t have the heart to…” Byleth mumbled. 

“What now?” 

“Go ahead, Papa Bear.” 

Dimitri blushed, flustered for the first time in a long while. “What does that mean!?” 

“King of Lions you may be, but behind closed doors, you’re such a softie to the little one. Scary, teeth-bearing beast on the battlefield, to snuggling and cooing the sleeping child at nighttime.” 

“W-Well, I suppose…” 

Byleth chuckled, the light from his eyes fading. “I’ve teased you enough. It’s time for me to stop avoiding the inevitable, and let you tend to your tasks, as I will tend to mine.” 

“Of course. I admit, I find your teasing endearing.” Dimitri smiled and kissed his husband. “I shall return. I love you both.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Rest if you need to, promise me that.” 

“I--I promise.” 

“Thank you.” 

After a few seconds of clicking boots, the door shut. Byleth frowned and sat, the council room empty. His son’s fingers tugged his bangs, but his heart was too hollow to pay it any mind. The lamenting ran through his body and mind for some time. Then, kingdom called, and he pushed everything aside to tend to his duties. There was no time to pity himself. 

**-0-**

Dimitri made his way down the hall and out of the building with Dedue by his side. He tried not to dwell too much on the future, or what being away from his family would be like. It was only for a short time, but it was still brutal nonetheless. Byleth’s emotions weren’t the most stable, and leaving his husband for any amount of time was something Dimitri didn’t like. He feared Byleth being alone with not even a child to look after. That emptiness would swell and fill the absence. 

The king stopped by the market on his way out, much to the surprise of many citizens. They watched as he walked past, dressed in his usual armor and blue cloak. He didn’t have time to stop and speak with anyone, he hoped they would forgive him. There was something he wished to do before departing. 

The florist bowed with surprise when Dimitri entered with Dedue and a few guards. “Your Majesty, how may I help you today?” she greeted with nervousness. 

“Is it possible to have flowers delivered? If not, please do not feel the need to bend the rules for me and me alone,” Dimitri said. 

“We don’t do deliveries, in all honesty, but if His Majesty should want it, we will accommodate such a request for our king.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to trouble yourself with that. I am simply traveling without my husband and wished for flowers to be sent to him in my stead.” 

The florist smiled. “You wish to have flowers delivered to the archbishop? We can have that arranged.” 

“Can you? I would be most appreciative of that. Can I have flowers delivered to him every morning for the next, say, five days? I shall have my vassal pay you in advance for all of them, along with a little extra for the trouble of delivering them.” 

“Of course. What type of flowers, Your Majesty?” 

Dimitri frowned and furrowed his brow. “Oh...I did not think ahead this far…” He sighed, his fingers on his chin. “How about a different kind every day? Byleth loves flowers. I have no preference in particular.” 

“Would you like to add a personal message as well? Oftentimes we give our customers a card for them to hand over with the bouquet.” 

“I see. Well, that would mean I get five cards for five days, correct? Maybe I should--Goddess, I do not know…” He paused, lost in thought. “I shall take five of them, and date each of them so they can be delivered with the flowers each day. Is that too much trouble?”

“Not at all, Your Majesty.” 

Cards were splayed on the counter as Dedue paid the florist. Dimitri wrote over each card, trying to say heartfelt words while being hasty about it. He needed to get on the road to Fhirdiad, but this was something he wasn’t going to leave without doing. He wasn’t sure how Byleth would react, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying it. 

**-0-**

The wind was breezy as Byleth stood in front of the packed carriage. His son was drowsy in his arms, wrapped and bundled with many layers despite the spring weather. Rhea and Flayn stood in front of him with Seteth at his side. Byleth frowned and held Jeralt closer. His body rattled despite the lack of a heartbeat, and the anguish pulsed through his limbs. 

“I...left a letter in one of the bags detailing how I care for him,” Byleth finally said, his voice weak. “You don’t have to follow my exact routine, I only wrote it in case you need guidance. He’s a difficult child to read sometimes.” 

Rhea nodded at him with a soft smile. “I understand. He will be well taken care of, I assure you, dear child. No need to worry.” 

“Thank you. I owe you a debt.” 

“Not at all. If anything, we are returning the favor. Even so, there are no debts within a family. We do this because we care about you and your child.” 

Byleth nodded as he bit his lip. After kissing his son’s head, he passed the bundle over to Rhea, and stepped back. “We’ll come and escort you back to the monastery once it’s safe to do so. Thank you again…” 

“Don’t worry, Professor. I’m sure it’ll just be a short little vacation!” Flayn interjected with a smile. Seteth threw her a disapproving look. 

_ “Flayn…” _ he said, his voice stern. 

Byleth shook his head. “I hope it’s just that and nothing more.” 

“Do you still have the key I gave you, Flayn?” Seteth asked. Flayn nodded, her curls bouncing around her. 

“ _ Of course _ , brother,” she replied. 

“The cottage may need a bit of dusting once you arrive. It has been a few years since my last visit.” 

“That will be no problem,” Rhea interjected. She stepped forward and wrapped a free hand around Byleth’s shoulders to give him a reassuring embrace. “Try not to lose too much rest, alright? The Goddess is watching over us.  _ Protecting _ us.” 

“I have faith,” Byleth said, his eyes closed. “I shall pray for your safe journey.”

The touch of Rhea’s soft hand cupped Byleth’s cheek before she turned away. The group entered the carriage, the gold door still swung open. Byleth furrowed his brows and waved. Rhea smiled with reassurance and waved back. 

A piece of fabric touched Byleth’s palm when he reached into his pocket. He pulled out Dimitri’s extra eyepatch. “Oh!” he exclaimed softly. He stepped onto the stair of the carriage and leaned in. “Here. Take this. He likes to hold onto it sometimes. It comforts him, for whatever reason. I put it in my pocket to pack, but then I forgot.”

“Dimitri gave him one of his eyepatches?” Flayn said with a smile. She took it in her hands. “That is so adorable.” 

“Yes. I won’t keep you any longer. Safe journey.”

The door closed when Byleth shut it on his way off the stair. He waved one last time and turned away. Seteth turned and followed him, hands behind his back. 

“Thank you for offering to open your home for my son,” Byleth said. 

Seteth smiled softly. “It was no trouble. It shall be a safe haven for Rhea as she continues to recover. I will admit, convincing Flayn to stay off the battlefield and leave was easier when a child was involved.”

“At least we won’t have to worry about them being here should something happen.” 

“Of course. It puts me at ease.” Seteth stopped at a crossroads in the monastery. “It is late. Get some rest, Byleth. Goddess knows you need it.” 

Byleth sighed. “I know it’s obvious by my looks. Thank you, Seteth. Rest well.” 

**-0-**

The loneliness of the archbishop's quarters wasn’t apparent until Byleth woke in the early morning. The previous night, he’d fallen into sleep quickly out of pure exhaustion. The time on the clock was an hour later than he usually woke, but other realizations pressed into his mind first and foremost. 

He was alone. 

The emerald ring on his finger caught the light as he turned in bed. The bassinet’s colors were bright in the sun, still and devoid of most of the supplies usually surrounding it. No muscle memory could overcome what Byleth already knew: there was nothing there to tend to. 

It had been a long while since he’d woken in bed completely alone. During pregnancy, kicks and movements kept him company during long evenings and early mornings without his husband. Now there was no such thing. 

He rose and dressed for the day, his expression solemn. He wished to weep, but couldn’t bring himself to. As embarrassed as he was to admit, he only truly felt comfortable weeping in Dimitri’s arms. It was swell until that time came again. 

**-0-**

Papers piled on Byleth’s desk as he readied himself to read correspondence. After finishing reading and responding, he would meet with the Knights of Seiros and survey defense preparations. The morning was full of duty, and the afternoon was not yet planned. It was overwhelming, but he tried to take things one step at a time. The first envelope was cut with a letter opener. 

It wasn’t long before Byleth grew distracted. He was in his office, surrounded by his father’s things. It was the captain’s quarters, but after a talk with Alois, they moved around spaces to accommodate the new captain’s office elsewhere. Sometimes it brought him comfort, other times it brought him pain. This day it was a mixture of both. The room reminded him of both his father and his son, two that shared the same name, and even some of the same temperament. Byleth wished he could speak with his father again, if only to ask what he thought of what he had become. Would he be proud? Would he approve of his relationship with Dimitri? What would he think of Byleth having a son of his own? 

The questions faded when there was a knock on the door. Byleth sighed and offered whoever it was permission to enter. A young maiden walked through with a bouquet of flowers. Byleth furrowed his brow with surprise. He stood, a bit wary, and prepared himself in defense. 

“Your Grace, these were flowers sent to you by His Majesty,” she said. She handed the bouquet to him and took a bow. Byleth turned the flowers in his hand and noticed a letter attached with light string. The envelope addressed him, and his defenses dropped. He’d recognize Dimitri’s handwriting anywhere. 

“Oh!” Byleth exclaimed with a blush on his cheeks. “This is quite the surprise. Thank you very much for bringing these to me.”

“Of course. Have a blessed day, Your Grace.” 

The maiden took her leave, shutting the door behind her. Byleth sat again and pressed his nose into the arrangement of lilies. The aroma eased tension in his muscles, and helped him forget his stresses. He unraveled the knot around the stems and the letter slipped free. Once opened, it read:

_ My beloved, Byleth,  _

_ Please, I beg of you, do not push yourself too hard. I worry about you constantly. I know recent events are stressing you, and weighing on your soul. I shall return soon to comfort you myself. Until then, I hope these flowers can do that in my stead.  _

_ -Dimitri.  _

Byleth’s eyes watered as he placed the letter down. He swiped them, determined to swallow his upset. Affection permeated through ink and the smell of lilies. For the first time since waking, he no longer felt so alone. 

**-0-**

The second morning waking was worse than the first. Byleth’s chest ached, still attempting to produce nourishment for a child not in his presence. It was always minimal, and hardly shifted his physique, but it caused slight discomfort. Byleth dismayed. If he had to endure the pain, he wished it would be enough to feed his son. The thoughts were pushed away. Even if it was enough, there was no infant to provide for. Lumps swelled in his throat, but he swallowed them down. He was still alone. 

More correspondence was on his desk when he arrived. He picked up his routine again, similar to the day before. A knock on the door lifted him from his silent lamenting. He gave them permission to come in. The maiden from the day before entered with another bouquet. Byleth shook his head. 

“Your Grace, a bouquet sent to you from His Majesty,” she said with a smile. 

“You brought me one from him yesterday,” Byleth replied. He stood and took the bunch of pansies. Another letter in Dimitri’s handwriting was tied around it. 

“Yes,” she said with a bow. “However, His Majesty requested that you get a bouquet today also.”

“Wow. I...don’t know what to say. Even my own husband surprises me sometimes…” Byleth nodded to her with a pensive smile. “Thank you. The arrangement is lovely. I appreciate you going out of your way to do this at my husband’s request.”

“Of course. It’s our pleasure. Have a blessed day, Your Grace.” 

The door shut again. Byleth lifted the flowers to his nose so he could drift into the aroma. He opened the second letter and read:

_ My beloved, Byleth,  _

_ Are you rested? I am still worried. I know you are thinking about us, but please do not allow it to weaken your health. I worry you may turn feverish. If it cannot be helped, I will not be angry, but rather saddened. If so, I will tend to you once I return. Thinking of wiping a cool cloth over your heated face, it reminds me of one of the most stressful, yet joyous days of my life. I think you know what I refer to. I hope you remember that day with fondness, despite the circumstances. Perhaps one day, we will experience such a joy again. _

_ -Dimitri _

The letter’s words stared at Byleth’s foggy eyes. He stood and added his pansies to a vase with the lilies from the day before. The loneliness was still in full force, but flowers and cursive words were reprieve. He eventually left the office, a bit more energized to tend to defense preparations. When Seteth commented on the slight twinkle in his eye, it put him at ease, and he responded with a smile. 

**-0-**

The third day alone was full of anger. Byleth wanted to sharpen his sword, and go chasing the darkness in broad daylight. He wanted his son, wanted to hold him and care for him. He wanted to try to nurse him and fail, only to use goat’s milk instead. Even if the failure stung, it would be worth it, for they would be together. It infuriated him that his quarters were empty. He was used to him and Dimitri being apart. It was par for course of being a royal couple. However, it was fiends that threatened him which caused his son to be torn away. It had only been a short time, but Byleth’s mind didn’t care. 

He tried to defuse the steam with some swordplay. It helped a small bit. Afterward, he went to his office to read his correspondences. The letter opener clanked onto the desk after he sliced open the first one. He didn’t have time to read through it before there was a knock on the door. Byleth offered permission for them to come in, though his tone was a bit sharp. The maiden once again appeared with another bouquet. Byleth’s sharpness faded into confusion. 

“Your Grace, a bouquet for you from His Majesty,” she said. 

Byleth took the snapdragons into his hands. “Again?” he said. “But this is the third day in a row.” 

“Yes, it was His Majesty’s request that I bring you a bouquet this day as well. A different flower every day.” 

“I see…” He furrowed his brow. “I am not sure what my husband is up to. Thank you for following along with his requests.” 

The maiden smiled and bowed. “Of course, Your Grace. Have a blessed day.” 

The routine repeated itself. The aroma soothed the seething in his soul, and he eased into the chair. Another letter was untied and opened. He read:

_ My beloved, Byleth, _

_ I think of you so often. I failed at poetry during my early schooling at the palace in Fhirdiad, but sometimes I wish I knew how, if only to write them for you. My father would sometimes laugh at how silly my poems were when my teacher would show them to him. They are still as rudimentary as that all these years later, so I won’t bother trying to write one.  _

_ Though, I admit, I hate to call anyone my teacher other than you. I have told you this before, you taught me how to live. That’s the best lesson anyone could have given me. I hope I have returned the favor by giving you things no one else has, though I lack anything to teach you.  _

_ -Dimitri _

The anger faded to solemn stillness. The love was pouring from each letter that arrived every morning. It made yearning more intense, yet comforted at the same time. Byleth closed his eyes and held the bouquet. He wondered if this was what his mother felt when his father gave her flowers, only to disappear again. 

**-0-**

Sleep wasn’t rest, and the differentiation was clear on the fourth day Byleth woke alone. He woke with a fever, sprung through his skin by the stress of the days. He tried to read correspondence at his desk, but couldn’t keep his eyes steady. It was frustrating, but couldn’t be helped. He called Seteth to his office, only to tell him he had no choice but to retire to his chambers for the day. After many apologies, Seteth hushed him, and helped him into bed. Manuela was not far off, and would be arriving soon. The doors to his chambers were knocked on. Thinking it was her, he gave permission to enter. He straightened when it was maiden. 

“Your Grace, a bouquet from His Majesty," she said. “I am sorry to have disturbed you.” 

Byleth pawed the cool cloth off his forehead and shook his head. “No, my apologies. This is no proper way for the citizens to see the archbishop and spouse of the king. Thank you for bringing them to me here. I admit, I don’t understand why my husband decided this, but...it brightens my day.” 

“Perhaps that is just the reason he chose to.” 

The bouquet of lavender was handed to him. He brought it to his nose, and his aching head relaxed for a moment. “Perhaps you’re right. Thank you for bringing me this.” 

“I appreciate your gratitude, but be sure to give the proper thanks to His Majesty. It was his idea, after all.”

“Of course.”

“Get well soon, Your Grace.”

The door shut again. After inhaling the scent for a while longer, Byleth opened the letter attached, and more musings from his husband spilled into his mind:

_ My beloved, Byleth,  _

_ Would you marry me again if I asked you today? I hope so. I think about this sometimes. I think maybe, bloodstained as I am, I do not deserve you. I have questioned whether or not I am fit to be king, but am I fit to be your husband? I suppose it does not matter now, given all we have been through. You were like doves flying through the flames of hell I was living in. I do not know how you survived the scorching heat to save me, to bring me the love that you have.  _

_ Also, would you dance with me should we ever attend a ball again? I daydreamed about it during the ball in our academy days. I cannot believe I just wrote that. Nevertheless, I won’t strike it through. It does not matter now. I married my professor. Perhaps that is the best thing I have ever done? _

_ -Dimitri _

Byleth chuckled, his cheeks rosy. He leaned back and returned the cloth to his forehead as his eyes closed. Dimitri had a flustered side, a side that only Byleth was allowed to see. To everyone else, he was a serious, dedicated king with a dark past. To Byleth, he was much more. He mumbled vaguely to Manuela when she arrived, his mind hazy with the thought of one day being able to ask for Dimitri’s hand during a dance.

**-0-**

The fifth day began by breakfast in bed, Manuela sharing it with Byleth to keep him company. After tending to him a bit more, she left him to rest. Byleth fell in and out of sleep during the morning, his face still warm and his body aching. A hazy dream was cracked through when there was a knock on the door. He gave permission to enter, and assumed it was the maiden with more flowers. Instead, he was greeted by Dimitri with a bouquet of roses in hand. Byleth stumbled to sit up as his husband made his way to him. 

The roses were set on the nightstand. Dimitri sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing a cloth and dipping in the bowl at Byleth’s side. He wiped it over Byleth’s face with worry. 

“Beloved, is everything alright? I returned early, and when I did, heard that you are unwell,” Dimitri said. Byleth shrugged and placed a hand over the one on his face. 

“Just a stress fever. No need to worry. Manuela said I show no signs of any serious illness,” he replied. 

“I was worried about that…" 

“The flowers are lovely. Thank you.” 

Dimitri smiled. “I wanted them delivered to you five days in a row, to keep you company. I was supposed to return tomorrow, but I was able to march the troops here ahead of schedule. After that, I stopped by the florist, and said I’d deliver the final bouquet myself.” 

“How sweet.” Byleth smiled back. He tugged on Dimitri’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. “To answer your questions: yes, I would marry you again, and yes, I would dance with you should you ask.” 

“Wonderful. Thank you.” 

“I miss Jeralt. Well, both of them.” 

“I know, beloved. I do, too.” 

Byleth sighed and leaned back. “I would love to dance with our son at this imaginary ball of yours. One day, a few years from now, he’ll be toddling around on his own.”

“Yes, he will, won’t he? I am sure such festivities would excite him, especially at that age.” 

“Dimitri, let’s resolve this mess so we can enjoy our family. Him being away is so painful.” 

“It will pass, I promise.” Dimitri kissed Byleth’s forehead. “The extra troops are here. These fiends are far outnumbered, they will not prevail.” 

“I hope so. We’ve been securing our defenses while you were away. Perhaps that strain weakened me.”

“I warned you not to push yourself too hard, but I suppose part of me knew that you would do it anyways…” Dimitri sighed and stood, brushing fingers through mint green hair. “I must wash up, it was a long journey. Please get some rest. It worries me that you are unwell while threats to the monastery are abound.” 

“I will rest the best I can.” 

“Thank you.” 

When the door to the bath clicked shut, Byleth pawed at the bouquet and took it in his hands. He inhaled the aroma, and it stirred passion within him. It was something he was too exhausted to act on, but it lingered, and eased the cuts in his soul. He opened the letter attached and read:

_ My beloved, Byleth,  _

_ I confess, I am running out of things to say. I have written all of these letters in a row and now I am straining for topics to speak to you about. As king, I write correspondence each day, yet this is difficult. Perhaps there is only one thing left to say.  _

_ I love you.  _

Byleth smiled, endeared at how Dimitri had forgotten to sign his name with the last letter. They needed not to name each other, they knew each other’s handwriting well. Words alone were enough to show their love, and even without those, it would be clear all the same. Whatever was ahead was unclear, but Byleth could fight on as long as his husband stood next to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going to have more angst in it, but I keep extending it further into the story. I didn't plan the "five days, five bouquets" thing it just kinda happened. It might be filler and not important to the plot. lol It's honestly just self-indulgent fluff because it's Christmas and I felt like having tooth-rooting fluff along with the season. 
> 
> Thanks for comments & kudos! I really appreciate it so much. I'm so grateful for it.


	17. Tales of Yesteryear

The archbishop’s quarters were quiet as Dimitri exited the bath. Relief filled his bones at seeing Byleth asleep in bed, a peaceful expression upon his face. The rest of the morning was free for Dimitri, the afternoon full of a few meetings with his generals and troops. Because of that, he left his armor off for the time being and crawled into bed in a simple tunic and trousers. He snuggled into Byleth’s back and closed his eyes for a short rest. 

Heavy breathing caused him to rustle from his dozing. A hand rested on Byleth’s hip as Dimitri curled into the pillow again. His eyepatch shifted and became off-kilter, but he ignored it. 

“Dimitri…” Byleth mumbled. 

Sheets rustled as Dimitri leaned up in bed. He leaned over his husband, only to find he was still asleep. 

“Dimitri…” he mumbled again. His face contorted in pain as he curled in on himself. 

Fingers brushed across Byleth’s face. Dimitri debated whether or not to wake him, or wait until he settled again. He didn’t wish to startled Byleth even more by pulling him out a state of distress into a confusing sleep-dazed world. He also didn’t wish for Byleth to suffer through nightmares like he did. Dimitri had suffered from them for years, and they were still a plague on his mind. 

“Dimitri, he’s not breathing!” Byleth exclaimed. “ _ Please not him _ ...he was just born.” 

Byleth was shaken awake. His eyes pulsed as they widened, his breathing still heavy. Dimitri leaned over him with furrowed brows, a hand cupping Byleth’s jaw. 

“Easy, beloved,” he whispered, “it was just a nightmare.” 

“I’m sorry,” Byleth said with a sigh. 

“No need. Do you wish to speak of it?” 

“I was reliving Jeralt’s birth. I know I said things in the dream I didn’t say in reality, but the events were mostly the same. I felt the pain of birth like it was brand new, like I was there again. Then I panicked, thinking he was dead.”

Dimitri frowned. He felt Byleth’s head, and the warmth that was there previously had subsided. “I am sorry nightmares plague us like this, Byleth. I sometimes relive Rodrigue’s death in my sleep as if I was there all over again. It is anguish, I know it must be the same for you.” 

“I can’t stay in bed all day again, not after that. Will you take a walk with me? Then, perhaps, we can eat some lunch together.” 

“Of course.” 

The couple dressed. Byleth forgoed his regal robes for his simpler, nostalgic professor’s uniform. It was comfortable and light, perfect for the early spring weather at the monastery. He wished to walk to ease the mind, and piling on his archbishop’s clothing was too much hassle. For at least the morning, he wanted to leave that be. His duties would catch up to him soon enough. 

Byleth stopped at the empty bassinet and shook his head. A gloved hand wrapped around his, and Dimitri tugged him away. They exited the building and walked along stone paths. Byleth wrapped his wrist around Dimitr’s elbow, eased by the fresh air. He guided Dimitri around, and they ended up back at the officer’s academy of old. 

A bundle of keys was tugged from Byleth’s pocket. He glanced at Dimitri, then shoved the key into the old door of the Blue Lion’s classroom. It creaked open, and he beckoned him inside. Dimitri followed, and shut the door behind him. 

“Seeing you dressed like that, standing in this room, it brings back many memories…” Dimitri mused. 

“I felt a little indulgent for entombed time today,” Byleth replied with a nod. “Also, I just wasn’t in the mood to wrangle with my archbishop robes today.” 

“I understand that well. Royal robes are a hassle sometimes.” 

Byleth turned and walked back to his old desk. His hand ran along the surface. “Who would’ve imagined where life would lead us?” 

“All the time I spent listening to your lectures, doing homework and tests, getting trained under your watchful eye...Honestly, I never thought you would be anything more than my professor...” Dimitri walked forward and leaned against the table he used to so often sit at. 

“I’m hoping one day our son can attend the academy like his father did. If I wasn’t the archbishop, I would likely be a professor still.” 

“You enjoyed your students.” 

“Yes. I married one of them, after all,” Byleth teased. The light drained from his eyes, short-lived and longing. He opened one of the drawers in the desk and dug through it. He pulled a stack of papers and began to examine them. “These are graded tests I never returned.”

Dimitri joined him at the desk. “It seems they were taken the day before we went to the Holy Tomb. After that, all classes were cancelled to prepare for the attack on the monastery.”

“I remember being nervous about the ritual, so I stayed awake the whole night grading papers.” Sheets shuffled as he flipped through them. Byleth held one up. “I found yours.” 

Red marks scattered the test, Dimitri’s fanciful handwriting in between. His face flushed at seeing the failing grade scribbled at the top. “Perhaps it is best I never received this…” 

“That was the only failing grade you ever got. I was worried something was wrong, that perhaps you were troubled. I never got the chance to speak with you about it.” 

“Yes. We both know how that turned out…” Dimitri frowned. He lightened the mood by pointing at a paragraph of notes written in the bottom free margin on the back. “But you were always so diligent in your constructive criticism.” 

The paper was taken from his hand. Byleth read the note out loud. “Formation proposed would lead to an opening in the southeast and northwest flank, allowing the enemy to counter with a diagonal pincer attack. Placing the kingdom’s lord at the northwest corner may lead to enemy defeat or gain depending on battle outcome. Could also result in loss of the lord, which isn’t preferable.” 

Dimitri crossed his arms. “Pushing myself far ahead and into danger was the sort of nonsense I did for years.”

“If only I was there to warn you.” 

A kiss pressed to Byleth’s cheek. “Do not dwell on it. Let us see what else is in this desk.” 

The aged tests were placed back in their final resting place. Another drawer opened, and various notes were pulled out. Most were of Byleth’s handwriting: lesson plans, reminders of every kind, a diagram of how he wished to plant flowers in the greenhouse. It was endearing for Dimitri to see a glimpse into Byleth’s life as a professor, and studied each one with intrigue. 

Byleth picked up a lingering one still in the desk. He chuckled at it. “Oh yes. I never did figure out who wrote this. The handwriting is so awful, I assume they did it on purpose to obscure who they really were.” 

“What is it?” Dimitri plucked the paper from his hand. 

“Professor Byleth, I hope one day you shall allow me to take you out for dinner. You deserve it for all the hard work you’ve done. If there is no one to dance with you at the ball, I shall happily do so. I care about you a great deal, and think of you often. Perhaps we can be together forever,” Byleth read aloud. 

“Oh, yes, that is peculiar. Hmmm...I wonder who wrote that? You had a lot of admirers back in the day.” 

“Why are you so pale? And...is that a blush on your cheeks?” 

“No! It is simply odd to think that my husband was receiving love letters before I married him, is all.” 

“Lies!” Byleth exclaimed, snatching the note back. He looked it over again.  _ “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddydd!” _

Dimitri realized he was in trouble at the use of his full name, and frantically waved his hands. “Beloved, it was  _ not _ me!” he insisted. 

“Who put you up to it?” 

“Sylvain…” 

Byleth pinched his nose and put the paper down. “I can’t believe this. The Crown Prince of Faerghus crushed on his professor to the point of leaving an anonymous love note on his desk.”

“I lost a bet. Sylvain bet that I couldn’t win the advanced axe contest, and I thought I could, despite not being the best axe user and--long story short, I lost. The bet was that if I lost, I would write an anonymous letter to my crush…” 

“Wow.” 

“Beloved, I have told you before I pined after you for a long time.” 

“I wondered for a long time who wrote that.” Byleth sighed and placed a hand on his hip. “I suppose that does sound like some nonsense Sylvain would think up.” 

“Well, now you know. It was me.”

“Goddess, you _ always _ get your way, don’t you?” Byleth said with an amused chuckle. “You wanted your throne back, you got it. You wanted to marry your professor, you did. You wanted a child, you  _ impregnated  _ me!” 

“O-Oh...Well, when you put it that way…” Dimitri furrowed his brow with a bright blush. 

“You said you hoped I would allow you the pleasure of taking me to dinner. You can do so now.” 

The king chuckled at the subtle, playful demand. He picked up Byleth bridal-style and kissed him. “I am sorry, Your Grace, but lunch teatime will have to do for now. It is not yet midday.” 

“That’ll do. I hope you’ll tell me whatever secrets are left from your academy days…” 

“Do you recall the anonymous flowers left on your desk when it was your birthday?” Dimitri asked as he carried him through the classroom of old. 

“That was you also!?” 

“I noticed how you bought everyone flowers on their birthday. I wanted to return the favor, but I thought it could be a little awkward, so I just...left them quietly.” 

“By the Goddess,  _ anything else?” _

“Let me think about it over tea…” 

**-0-**

The dining hall was full of lingering soldiers of the church and kingdom alike. Some bowed and offered greetings to Dimitri when he entered, and he offered kind words back. Byleth was outside in the courtyard, waiting at Dimitri’s insistence that tea be brought to him. Dedue was cooking at the front, and stopped his task to acknowledge the king. 

“Dedue, are you cooking because you enjoy it or because you feel you must?” Dimitri asked with a smile. 

“Perhaps it is a mixture of both, Your Majesty,” Deduce replied with a slight, subtle smile of his own. “Do you need anything?” 

“Just tea and whatever you’ve prepared for the other soldiers. Byleth is ready for lunch…” At the sound of his husband’s name, Dimitri began to chuckle, recalling their earlier antics in the classroom. Dedue raised a brow. 

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” 

“Dedue…” He kept chuckling, one hand on his temple. “I got into a bit of trouble with my husband.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Do you remember back in our academy days when an anonymous person left flowers on Byleth’s desk for his birthday? Then, a few weeks later, there was chatter about an anonymous love letter left for him also?” 

“I do. But what does this have to do with the trouble you are in? Are you in danger?” 

Dimitri shook his head. “Oh, goodness, not at all. It is just Byleth discovered secrets I have kept for years. Secrets from my academy days. Turns out the professor’s secret admirer was me all along.” 

“That was you doing all those things?” 

“Yes.” He wiped a tear off his eyelid as he continued to chuckle. “Dedue, my husband was not the most pleased to realize his student had been up to so many antics. He had wondered for years who that person was.” 

Dedue smiled and prepared two plates. “It worked out well for you in the end, Your Majesty.” 

“Yes, it did indeed.” 

“I shall bring you and His Grace lunch.”

“I thank you. And, after you bring us lunch, take a rest for yourself, will you?” 

“Of course, if His Majesty wills it.” 

“I do. You work hard enough.” 

The lunch of baked salmon, chamomile, and fruit was soon brought to the waiting royal couple in the garden courtyard. Byleth nodded a thanks to Dedue, then sighed. The vassal raised a worried brow. 

“Are you alright, Your Grace?” he asked. 

“Dedue, I can’t believe Dimitri wrote me a love note while he was my student!” Byleth exclaimed. “I can’t stop thinking about this. Pining after your professor so intensely like that...” 

“His Majesty told me his secrets were revealed,” Deduce said with a smile. 

The note was taken from Byleth’s pocket. He handed it to the vassal. “Look at this. _ He _ did this! This boy right here.” 

The king laughed, and it caught the attention of a few passing by. “Did you just call your husband a _ boy? _ ” Dimitri interjected with amusement. “You’re the only one that can get away with calling the King of Faerghus that.” 

“It seems His Majesty has cared for you a long while, Your Grace,” Dedue commented as he handed the paper back. 

“I lost a bet!” 

Byleth leaned over to his husband with curious eyes. _ “Did you mean it?”  _

“Of course,” Dimitri insisted. 

The hair on Dimitri’s scalp was ruffled, the edges of a wedding band scratching his skin. After the hand pulled away, it promptly shoved into his shoulder. He couldn’t contain a chuckle. It was refreshing to see Byleth’s more playful side, especially after the stress of recent events. 

The playfulness faded when Seteth turned the corner and appeared from behind the hedges. His hands were behind back, his poise calm but stern. He walked up to the table. 

“Your Grace, a militant group with demonic beasts has been spotted a half-days march from the monastery. They will be here by sundown,” he said. 

Byleth’s expression turned stoic. He inhaled and placed the handkerchief in his hand on the table. The lightheartedness shattered as the archbishop stood from the table. Dimitri followed. 

“Let us have a briefing regarding this situation,” Byleth said. “Please call in the top members of the Knights of Seiros. We’ll meet in the council room.” 

“Of course,” Seteth said as he nodded. He turned and disappeared behind the hedges again. It was silent between the three of them. Byleth frowned and pocketed the love note from yesteryear. The days of worrying over anonymous flowers and mysterious affection were long abandoned. A war was fought and won, only to have more violence bloom in the aftermath. 

**-0-**

The council was full of preparation for the coming attack, which was confirmed to arrive at dusk. The assailants were part of the larger group responsible for the archbishop’s assassination attempt, and part of Byleth’s mind ached for vengeance. Any person that put his child through stress was guilty of the greatest sin against him. No offense was greater, and his will to protect his son went beyond church duty or creed. It was something nestled deep within his heart, something he’d never admit. 

The room had cleared out, save for Byleth and Seteth. Dimitri and Dedue went to retrieve their weapons, and to get the Sword of the Creator for Byleth. The archbishop sighed and shuffled the reports he had just finished reading. 

“Your decision to evacuate the citizens five days ago was a blessing,” Seteth said.

“I’m glad there is no one here that’s not equipped to fight…” Byleth relied with a nod. 

“Byleth, _stay at the rear._ You are the archbishop and progenitor god. You are strong enough to topple mountains, but this kingdom needs you.” 

“I understand.” Byleth paused and wiped his palms on his trousers. “Seteth, if something should happen to me...Rhea, Jeralt, and of course, Flayn, they shall be left in your capable hands. I trust you to look after them, to keep them safe.” 

It was silent for a moment. “Byleth…” Seteth mumbled with a furrowed brow. He cleared his throat. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” Byleth stood. “Let us prepare for the battle ahead.” 


	18. Javelins of Light

The Sword of the Creator was odd in Dimitri’s hands. It was not his to wield, though he was curious to swing it a few times. Despite his urges, he refrained. His only task was to retrieve it for Byleth as he finished up last minute inquiries with Seteth. A battle was nigh, and the army was going to meet the enemy in the sealed forest to drive them away from the monastery before they could reach it. 

All the weapons needed were gathered and loaded into a small pulling wagon. Dimitri sighed and sheathed his husband’s sword at his side. He crossed his arms with a furrowed brow, then glanced at his vassal. 

“Dedue, might we take a brief moment to speak of something?” he asked. 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Dedue replied with a nod. “What is on your mind?” 

“I worry about Byleth. He is not quite the same as he was during the war.” 

“What do you mean? He seems the same as always to me.” 

“He is skilled at wearing a mask for others, but in private quarters, he lets it down. He is very upset and angry at what we had to do with our son. I fear it may make him vengeful on the battlefield.” 

Dedue frowned. “I can see how it would be difficult to send a child away like that.” 

“Yes. It bothers me as well, but Byleth is taking it harder than I am. I know we will see Jeralt again soon, and I rest easy knowing he is safe and well taken care of. However, Byleth is near inconsolable when it comes to it. He cannot rest easy without the child near. His mind cannot  _ fathom _ that our child is safe. It tears him apart, and it pains me to watch because there is nothing I can do about it.”

“Do you think this will influence him in battle?” 

“Yes. He refuses to stay back in the monastery. I understand that well, this is our kingdom, our faith, and as archbishop, he feels he must play a role in protecting it. I worry, though. We have not fought any battles since Enbarr, and he has given birth since then. His body may not be as sturdy as it once was.”

“This is true, Your Majesty. Perhaps we can cover him and keep him shielded at the rear.” 

“That is what I plan to do. I know he wants to defeat those that tried to assassinate him, but I want him safe above all else. He is important to this kingdom, yes, but he is my husband. That alone motivates me to shield him. I feel so guilty I could not shield him from the assassination attempt entirely. He was saved, but it still did damage to him.” 

Dedue nodded. “I understand, Your Majesty. As your vassal, I will do my best to protect you and your family. However, I also wish the best for Byleth, as one that once taught and guided me so kindly.”

“Thank you, Dedue. I appreciate your words. We will always do our best to protect you, too, though you may object…” Dimitri nodded with a sigh. “I feel awful.” 

“How so?” 

“This is my doing. I am sure you heard the way Sylvain teases me. I fathered a child with Byleth, but it was not on purpose. We talked it over, we agreed we would wait. And, yet, I was careless with him and his body. I put him through it, and left during his pregnancy. I did not see a good chunk of the process, how it impacted him from day to day. Then, when he needed me most, a knife came within inches of his back. It was too much stress on him for being so heavy with child. Worst of all, he went into labor and felt he had no other choice but to give birth in a cramped carriage. There was nothing I could do but watch, knowing I was responsible.” 

“But you love your child, do you not, Your Majesty?” 

Dimitri furrowed his brow. “Yes, with all my heart. He is so precious to me. I cannot fathom a world without him in it. I suppose my guilt comes from the fact that I was perfectly fine with having a child with Byleth, despite his apprehensions. So when it happened, I was happy while he worried. Perhaps I should have been more conscious of his feelings.”

“I suppose I cannot fully comprehend your situation, given I have no children of my own. However, I will say, the child is here now, and that is what is most important. Perhaps you have lingering regrets, but you can atone for them by giving your husband and son the best you can. I know, despite any previous apprehensions, the archbishop holds great love and affection for that child. I am sure he does not wish for Jeralt to have never been born.” 

“Right as ever, Dedue. Thank you for your words. Any regrets I have are best atoned for by being a good father, husband, and king. Let us win this, my friend, and return to our peaceful lives as servants of this kingdom and its people.” 

Dedue bowed with a smile. “Of course, Your Majesty.” 

**-0-**

Heavy in hand, Byleth marched with the Sword of the Creator in his grasp. The church and kingdom armies intertwined, just as the two had been weaved together through marriage. It put Byleth a bit on edge, and he hoped he was leading the land well. It was the first time in history that the archbishop of the church and the king of the kingdom were bound by marriage, and marked a new era. Not only that, but the blood of House Blaiddyd and the progenitor god had intertwined, unbeknownst to the public. It seemed Byleth and Dimitri were one of the most powerful couples in history. Such heavy weight was intimidating. 

Byleth tried to shake the thoughts away. He forced himself to think of things that made him happy, such as cuddling his infant after a long day. The happiness soon melted into anger. After the battle was over, he’d return to an empty bassinet and an aching chest waiting for a child to feed. It only fueled his vengeance. 

The army stopped marching when they arrived at the sealed forest. The generals and soldiers looked to the royal couple for guidance. Byleth sighed and took the helm, knowing Dimitri wasn’t the best orator. 

“To the soldiers of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Church of Seiros, as the archbishop, I thank you for your cooperation in defending our monastery. As you have already been briefed, the enemy names themselves  _ Those Who Slither in the Dark. _ They have made our kingdom and faith a target of their unwarranted wrath. We must crush them to ensure the safety of our fellow citizens and our way of life.” 

The soldiers cheered. Byleth exhaled again, the morale overwhelming. “This group is the same group that five years ago, targeted the Church of Seiros by murdering the captain of its knights, Jeralt Eisner. The assailant was defeated by my hand, and justice was served. However, the larger group that plotted such a heinous act prevailed, and took the war as an opportunity to slip away and rekindle their numbers. Now, in times of hard-earned peace, they have decided to show their hand.

“Their attempts at assassination did not stop at Jeralt’s death. Three months ago, I was victim to an assassination attempt within the walls of Garreg Mach Monastery. This was kept quiet while a thorough investigation was conducted by the kingdom and church, as not to alert our enemies. However, that investigation is over, and it concluded that this fiendish group was responsible. So here I am, lucky to stand before you as your archbishop. I thank you,  _ personally _ , for raising your sword. They took my father, then tried to take my life as well. That you will fight this battle, that you will  _ win _ it, will help set me free from these burdens of my past. You have my sincerest gratitude. 

Let it be known here and now: as the royal couple of Faerghus, you have our full support. We will be fighting next to you,  _ for you, with you _ , to ensure this group is crushed once and for all. Now we fight for our king, His Majesty Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, and for the betterment of the kingdom he rules. May the Goddess bless us all!” 

The soldiers cheered, morale reaching new heights Dimitri didn’t think possible. His cheeks flushed at Byleth’s words, his orator skills beyond what even he expected. Byleth glanced back at him with triumph, and it surprised him. The look was gallant and mesmerizing, one that he hadn’t seen in a long while. Dimitri got lost within it, their time together flashing before him. His stomach warmed as Byleth walked away to speak with a general. It was hard to believe that man was the one he called his own, brought to his marriage bed, and conceived a child with. Sometimes Dimitri didn’t think himself worthy of it, and this was one such moment. 

A messenger arrived and let him know it was time. The enemy was in sight, and blades were drawn. The battle was beginning. 

**-0-**

The battle had begun just as any other back in the days of the war. Demonic beasts leveled small trees and crushed rocks beneath their feet, mages crept behind hedges, and mercenaries cut their way through. Byleth battled foes, knocking them down with ease. Dimitri lingered close by, and the pair assisted their fellow soldiers in taking down the beast. Flames from the last of its breath scattered across the forest floor. Soldiers ducked for cover, and most were spared the chaotic smoke. Byleth extended his sword, whipping around a mage headed his way, and ended their journey before it started. All the while, his face remained stoic and ashen. It intimidated his army and the enemy alike. 

Byleth caught his breath after the mage fell. He placed a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, his strength not what it was before the end of the war. The birth of his son was only twelve weeks prior, and his body was still reforming after the strain. Dimitri unclipped a small vulnerary from his belt and handed it to his husband. Byleth shooed it away. 

“I’m fine, my love,” he said. “Save that for when we might need it.”

The king heeded the words, and clipped it away again. The screams of warfare echoed in their ears as Byleth regained his stamina. Before they pushed forward, the cries of someone near caught their attention. 

“It burns!” someone shouted. “Someone...help me!” 

Dimitri stiffened, his mind flashing somewhere else. Cries of warfare intermingled with the flames of Duscur, and he grunted, shaking his head. The screams of the dead started knocking on his door, and a battle to drive it back began. It distracted him as Byleth rushed off. 

A soldier laid burned on the ground. Byleth kneeled and took the young man into his arms, cradling him by the shoulders. He extended a hand and began to heal the wounds with white magic. Disoriented, the man only shook his head with labored breathing. 

“Y-Your Grace?” he mumbled. “Is that you?” 

Byleth nodded. “Yes. I am healing your wounds.” 

“Your Grace, I must protect you!” 

“Shhh, no need. How old are you? What is your name?” 

“My name is Marcus, I’m fifteen…” he said with a shaking voice. “I’m an orphan, the church gave me a home when the empire destroyed my hometown. The church gave me purpose. Over two years ago, before the end of the war… you praised my swordsmanship. You gave me coins to have my weapon repaired. I suppose you don’t remember, but that kindness changed my life. I was ready to give up, but your words kept me from doing so. I will die protecting you, Your Grace. You, the one who gave me strength to carry on.” 

Warmth filled Byleth’s heart, but it soon faded when the realities of war settled in. He brushed the young man’s hair back and healed a cut on his temple. “You’re not dying, not today. You’re injured. Can you stand? I want you to return to the monastery, to the infirmary. I will check on you at a later time.” 

Marcus stood with the help of Byleth’s hand. “Thank you, Your Grace. Please, I can still fight.” 

“I couldn’t completely heal your wounds. You need a physician’s care. I thank you for your fealty, but I kindly ask that you return to the monastery. I want you by my side for many years yet. Your wounds are no longer deadly, but they will slow you down. And that, dear child,  _ is _ deadly.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” he replied with a bow. “Thank you.” 

The young man fled the battlefield, and it eased Byleth’s soul. To know that so many were willing to die to see him safe was jarring, if not eerie. After so many years as a mercenary and soldier, it didn’t sit well with him. He was always fending for himself before his academy days, and thereafter, dedicated himself to protecting others. To know that people were doing the same for him was a hard concept to grasp. 

The Sword of the Creator was unsheathed again as Byleth returned to Dimitri’s side. They fought through more and more enemies, the numbers a haze. The stamina in Byleth started to slow, and oftentimes, Dimitri was quickening his step more than his counterpart. A cramp in Byleth’s abdomen caused him to hunch. 

“Byleth!” Dimitri exclaimed when he turned around. “Beloved, I am sorry, but I think you should retreat back to the monastery.” 

“I--I can’t, Dimitri. I need to protect our kingdom…” 

“I am not saying this as your king, I am saying it as your  _ husband. _ Please, Byleth, leave now. We will finish this battle and report back to you. Your body is at its limits.”

“Dimitri!” 

“Byleth, enough! Listen to me, will you?” 

The king was shoved to the ground, his back colliding with the leaves. It took a moment to regain his bearings, but once he did, he crawled to his feet. A heap of black clothing was on the ground next to him, and it soon became clear it was his husband. Dimitri rushed to his side and fell to his knees. Byleth’s hands were wrapped around his thigh, bloodied and soaking the leaves. 

“Oh, my beloved,” Dimitri said, his voice wavering. He brought Byleth into his arms. “Beloved?” 

Byleth opened his eyes, sweat on his brow. He shook his head. “An arrow scraped the side of my thigh. It would’ve hit your chest, Dima…” 

“Dima?” 

“Sometimes, when I think about you, I call you Dima…” Byleth blinked, his eyes disoriented. “Wait...am I still--No, I just said it outloud.  _ I can’t believe I said that outloud!  _ Ah, Dimitri…” 

The echoes of war rang out around them, but the couple paid it no mind. Dimitri sighed and kissed Byleth’s cheek as he readied himself to stand. “I know you are in pain, I am so sorry. I will get you a healer.” 

“Still not as painful as birth…” Byleth mumbled. He gazed up at the sky. “Dimitri, wait. Look up there!” 

Dimitri followed his husband’s request. A bright, white light permeated the blue of the sky, barreling downward toward the forest. It neared, the shape that of a javelin. Byleth’s breath labored, and he squeezed Dimitri’s shoulder. 

“It’s an attack!” he exclaimed. 

“What do you mean!?”

“I’ve heard the legend of javelins of light from the sky pummeling cities. We don’t-- _ it’s coming this way!”  _

The transition from crouch to sprint happening faster than Byleth anticipated. Droplets of blood dripped as they rushed away, creating a trail of their path. The chaos was disorienting, and soldiers knew enough to deem evacuation their best option. Groups ran from the light, looking for cover.

The blast hit somewhere far off, but the debris blew their way. Byleth, still in Dimitri’s arms, extended his sword outward to wrap around a branch. It was tossed away. Another javelin appeared in the sky. Towering down on them, it took aim. Byleth furrowed his brow. 

“Dimitri, it’s headed this way,” he said. “We aren’t going to make it.”

“We are.  _ We are!” _ Dimitri argued. 

Hot white plused around them before their bickering could continue. Byleth dropped the sword and clung to his husband with both hands. Dimitri hunched around him, doing his best to shield his body. Their temples touched and their hair tangled together. They braced for the impact. 

“Sothis protect us,” Byleth mumbled, eyes squeezed shut. 

The world faded to black. 

**-0-**

The darkness was both chaos and stillness at once. Byleth opened his eyes, pushing himself off the ground. Trembling arms and legs hindered his thought process, the pain from his injury gone. He felt the spot the arrow hit him, only to find his trousers mended and no remnants of bleeding ever occurring. Soreness caused him to groan as he took a step. He tripped on something sturdy, and stumbled. Someone groaned underneath him. 

Byleth collapsed to his knees with a startled breath. He cupped hands over both of his husband’s cheeks. “Dima!” he exclaimed. “Dima, are you alright!?” 

“Ugh...beloved?” Dimitri mumbled. 

“It’s me, my love.” 

“Dima...that is so adorable…” The king groaned again and closed his eyes. He wrapped both arms around Byleth and yanked him down so he laid on his chest. “Let us sleep for a while.” 

Fatigue washed over Byleth’s body. He sighed into Dimitri’s neck and closed his eyes, pleased by the warmth and comfort of his spouse. “Alright, let’s sleep…”

It was quiet, save for the light breaths exchanged between them. They dozed in the darkness, two adoring spouses trapped in the arms of eternity. Light reached through Byleth’s closed eyelids. He groaned and adjusted on Dimitri’s chest. 

“Dimitri, blow out the candles.” 

“They are already out, beloved.” 

_ “You fools!” _ someone shouted behind them. 

The couple startled. Byleth jumped, his reflexes calling him to defend himself. He kneed his husband in the groin as he stood, and earned a pained exclamation as a result. Dimitri rolled onto his stomach, his body buried in the floor of the void they were in. 

“I’m so sorry, Dimitri!” Byleth exclaimed. “Oh, my love, are you hurt? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, I want more little ones.” 

“Everything is fine…” Dimitri mumbled. 

“Ugh, I cannot believe these two  _ children _ are wed,” someone said behind them again. 

Byleth stumbled to his feet. The voice was one long gone, but one he could never forget. “Sothis?” 

“I know, I know, you missed me so,” Sothis said with a smirk. “I have always been watching you, you know. And let me say, you are still the boulder I always took you as. Always being pushed around!” 

“I’m sorry…” 

“No excuses!” Sothis snapped. “You were too careless, and you paid the price.” 

“What do you mean?” Byleth frowned, worry in his eyes. He watched Dimitri stand from the corner of his eye. “Are we...dead?” 

“Not exactly. You lie somewhere between life and death, a void I placed you in at your call for protection. I deemed you worth saving. Again.” 

“Who is this little girl?” Dimitri asked. 

“Little girl!?” Sothis exclaimed. She pointed at him accusingly. “If I’m a little girl, then you are less than a child!” 

“Why are we here?” Byleth interjected. 

“I saved you both. I used the power of our fused souls to lock you both in a state of stasis as your bodies revitalized themselves. And, you know, I only saved him too because you asked for it…” Sothis sighed and put a hand on her cheek. “See? I am far kinder than you give me credit for.” 

“Are we to return to the world? Or are we stuck here?” 

“It is time for you to return. Your bodies are once again able to handle the outside realms.”

Byleth shook his head. “How...long have we been here?” 

“I cannot say for certain. You must discern that yourselves once you return to the world.” 

“I...I…” Tears bubbled in Byleth’s eyes. “My son!?” 

Sothis dropped her annoyed expression and adopted one of sympathy. “I am sorry, but I do not have such answers for you. You must go home, find out what has happened, and seek the truth. It is possible only a day or two has passed in the other reality.” 

“What is going on!?” Dimitri exclaimed. 

“Listen carefully, your beastliness,” Sothis said. “I am the beginning. I am the one that had the power to save you, I am the Goddess Sothis herself.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I am the being that fused with Byleth’s soul, the one that allowed him to become the progenitor god. Him and I are one. I am the power that granted you stasis in this realm, for my soul,  _ Byleth’s _ soul, willed it.”

“I am having trouble comprehending this…” 

_ “Sothis, send me back!”  _ Byleth demanded, though his voice was weak. “My son needs me.”

“We see each other again after all this time, and you do not wish to stay a while longer with me?” Sothis huffed and crossed her arms. “We do not often get to speak like this, you know.” 

“Oh, would you like me to fix you a damn cup of tea!?” Byleth snapped in frustration. “With  _ what _ kettle!?” 

“Um...My apologies for his disrespect, Your...Grace? Your Majesty?” Dimitri said, his face confused. 

Sothis pinched the bridge of her nose. “Your Majesty? That is what  _ you _ are!” She waved her hand. “Never mind. You two are hopeless.” 

Sobs echoed the void. Byleth broke, his resolve cracking and slipping into the nothingness. Everything was so fogged, so unclear and unfathomable. His only thoughts were that of his son, the missing piece of their family. Having Dimitri at his side was still not enough. Without knowledge of his child’s whereabouts, his willpower crumbled. 

The bickering between the king and goddess halted. Sothis furrowed her brow and walked in front of Byleth. She tugged his head to lay her forehead against his. Her fingers cupped his jaw, the tears still flowing along his cheeks. His hand lingered over hers before it fell limp on top of it. 

“You and I are one,” she said. “Your pain is my own.” 

Byleth nodded, words choked out of his soul. She brushed through his hair. “I will send you back. Remember I am with you. No matter what happens, you will have the strength to prevail.” 

“Sothis…” he mumbled. She nodded against him. 

“Say no more. I know. Your return is my return. The people will look to you as my light, my voice. Keep that in mind. The light of Sothis is needed, and you carry that torch. I do not know where that will lead you, but it is your fate.  _ Now go. _ ” 


	19. The Long Lost Couple

The wind was bitter in the ruins of the village. Byleth rose and stumbled to his feet, his neck stiff with a coming headache. Someone groaned behind him. He turned around and saw his husband with his back in the rubble. Byleth extended a hand and pulled Dimitri to his feet. 

Dimitri exhaled, his fogged breath in the air. He looked over Byleth's form as snow flurries cascaded down. The blue, fur cape was unclipped from Dimitri's shoulders and placed around Byleth's. 

"I'm alright, Dimitri..." Byleth insisted. 

"Your old professor's outfit can't be that warm. Please, just take it," Dimitri replied. "My armor is thick. I don't feel the cold."

"I'm afraid to say what I'm thinking aloud."

"What is it?"

"I...I..." Byleth bit his lip. "I need my son."

"We will find him. We entrusted his care to Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn, I trust that they have kept him safe."

"How much time has passed since that  _ light _ casted us into nothingness?"

Dimitri frowned. "I cannot answer that, beloved." 

"We need to find out..." Byleth started walking to nowhere in particular, and Dimitri soon followed. The dirt and rubble crunched under their feet as the flurries continued. The main road through the ruined village was solemn and quiet. Byleth brought the cape closer around his chest, doing his best to stay calm. The only rampant thought in his mind was laying eyes on his son again, and holding him in his arms. His chest was cold with the absence of an infant. 

Two villagers appeared on the other end of the road. They broke out into a run toward them, and the couple was on alert. The villagers stopped in front of them with huffs. 

"There you are!" one said. "I grabbed my friend to help when I saw the both of you passed out in the rubble. We were going to take you back to town, but it seems you both woke on your own." 

"What? You drug me out here for two drunkards?" the other retorted. 

"They don't look like drunkards! I don't know, it looked like they could use some help." 

"They look like mercenaries! See the armor!? And the eye-patch!?" 

Dimitri shook his head. "We have no intention of killing you."

"Tell me what you know about Garreg Mach," Byleth interjected. 

One villager tilted his head. "You mean you don't know? Are you from Almyra or something?" 

"The church was dismantled after the disappearance of the last archbishop and the king of Faerghus. The place was in ruins for a few years after, but it was revitalized by a noble and turned into a bustling, but small, territory. They specialize in creating books and clothing for the rest of the kingdom," the other villager added. 

"Years..." Byleth mumbled. He glanced up at Dimitri, worlds of heartbreak in his eyes. Dimitri could only stare for a second before turning back to the villagers. 

"This...King of Faerghus...I am afraid I am not familiar with the tale," he said. 

"Oh! It happened when I was about six or seven...I remember it clearly. There was a battle at Garreg Mach between the Church or Seiros and the Church of Zahras. The king of Faerghus at the time was Dimitri, who liberated the continent from the tyrannical empire a few years prior. According to hearsay, King Dimitri and his husband, the archbishop, were on the battlefield. They both disappeared, and the kingdom was without leadership. 

"The Church of Seiros collapsed, and so did the royal throne, given Dimitri had no heirs. That's when the Church of Zahras overtook the kingdom and established leadership. A few years ago they appointed Queen Audrina Vestra von Hresvelg as the ruler of the land." 

Byleth startled and covered his mouth. He turned around and paced away. Dimitri grabbed his arm before he walked too far. One of the villagers raised a brow, but said nothing of it. Their tale continued. 

"To be honest, I remember the reign of King Dimitri some twenty years ago. It was a prosperous time. Dimitri loved the people, and lived for them out of kindness and compassion. So did Archbishop Byleth. The Church of Zahras, and Queen Audrina, have brought nothing but darkness. They only live to serve themselves and their false religion. Worship of the Goddess is outlawed, but she lives in our hearts." 

The villager shrugged. "Garreg Mach is just up the road. Better to get an inn there than wander out in the cold. You know...there were always rumors that King Dimitri really did have an heir that no one knew about. People get a lot of fun out of speculating about his mistress or if Archbishop Byleth used magic to create a child or an abundance of other theories. I doubt any of it is true, though."

Dimitri nodded. "Thank you. We are sorry to trouble you, but we appreciate the information. We will be headed on our way now." 

"No problem. If you're gonna get drunk, don't do it right before a blizzard, yeah?"

The villagers turned and walked away. Dimitri walked around Byleth to face him. Byleth's head hung, his chest trembling as he sobbed quietly. Dimitri said nothing, and only wrapped him in a tight embrace. Byleth cried into his shoulder, and the raw emotion of it was agonizing. One tear slid down Dimitri's cheek before he swiped it away. He had to remain strong enough for both of them as they navigated the new world they had been thrusted into. 

"My beloved, a storm is coming," Dimitri said. "We should head toward Garreg Mach and learn more from there." 

"Dimitri...it's been twenty years..." Byleth croaked, his voice weak.

"Beloved..." 

"Where's my son!?" 

"We will find out all we can. We won't be able if we freeze in a blizzard." Dimitri wrapped an arm around Byleth and guided them further down the road. Byleth continued to cry silently, his body trembling. 

"If he's alive, he's not...a child," Byleth mumbled. "He...grew up...without us." 

Dimitri frowned. "We need more information."

"Please, Dimitri,  _ please _ ...we need to find him!" 

"We will. Let us go into Garreg Mach and see what became of it." 

**-0-**

Garreg Mach appeared the same as it always had, but the aura around it was much different. The village at its base was bustling with people, and seemed to be abundant with resources. The couple found an inn and rented a room with some gold that was in their satchels, and warmed by the fire. Byleth stood by the window and studied the outline of the chapel above them. He rubbed his chest as Dimitri stood behind him. 

"My beloved, come to bed," Dimitri said softly. Byleth swallowed and shook his head, his brows furrowed. 

"My chest is tender..." he mumbled. 

"Do you need anything?" 

"No. My body never made much milk...not after binding my chest tight with armor for so many years. But...it still does...for a child that doesn't exist." 

Dimitri frowned. He placed a hand on his husband's shoulder. "Byleth..." 

"He was  _ three months old. _ Dimitri, I know I said we must find him. But...why? Does he need us? Does it matter? He grew up without us, he's grown and living his own life. What need does he have for us? What could I possibly say to...make him believe I gave birth to him?"

"Seteth, Flayn, and Rhea were looking after him. Is it possible he was raised by them?"

"That's the best I could hope for. However, if that was the case, I'd feel incredibly guilty about it. To saddle them with my child after I disappeared, it was not their burden to bear. Even so, I know they would bear that burden. Seteth, Flayn, Rhea, and I share holy blood. We are like family in an abstract sense. Beyond their service to the archbishop, they would've done it as family." 

"We should search for them first and foremost."

"Where could they have gone? It's been so long." 

It was quiet. Byleth turned around, and together, the couple curled into bed. Neither of them could sleep, too shocked by the world that had whisked along without them for twenty long years. 

**-0-**

The dawn was solemn after the overnight snowfall. Byleth ate an apple that was in the bowl on the nightstand, leaving the other for his husband. His body burned with anguish. He didn't understand the world they were in, yet all he truly cared about was the fate of his son. He feared they would never meet again. The thought tore through his soul and crushed it to pieces. 

Dimitri dressed and ate the other apple, the room silent. Byleth threw the core of his in the wastebin. 

"I don't know where to begin..." he mumbled. 

"We should travel higher into Garreg Mach and investigate," Dimitri suggested. 

"Yes..." 

"I know this is painful for both of us, Byleth." 

"Those fiends stole everything from us...and they won." 

"It seems so, though I loathe to say it." 

"No one would believe we are the long lost royal couple of Faerghus." 

Dimitri frowned. "This much is true." 

"Let's go. All we can do is learn more." 

**-0-**

The black of Byleth's newly-purchased cloak made him more unassuming than he already was. He returned Dimitri's cape after the purchase, and together, the couple was clad in black, a silent mourning of stolen time. 

The upper area of Garreg Mach was eerie, given how unchanged it was from decades prior. It was no longer an officer's academy, but another section of the bustling town the former monastery had become. The dormitories were now single-room rentals, the greenhouse a place to purchase produce, and the dining hall a place to buy food. The classrooms were shops, and when Byleth walked into one it nearly took his breath away. Everything was recognizable, yet vastly different. He placed his hood over his head to hide his emotion. 

The graveyard was untouched. Byleth walked down the stairs and to the grave of his parents. He read the names and lamented, grief overcoming him. Dimitri lingered at the top of the stairs, giving Byleth time alone. It was quiet, a blanket of snow on the grass. 

Byleth kneeled in front of the grave, one hand over the spot that had no heartbeat. Cold tears cascaded his cheeks, memories of holding his father at death returning to him. It had been over twenty-five years since his father's death, and over forty since his mother's. It was surreal, and unimaginable. 

The black cloak fell around him, his hood covering most of his face. "Father..." he mumbled. "Please, help me find my son, your namesake." 

Dimitri watched from a distance. He was about to join Byleth at the grave when someone's voice stopped him. 

"Excuse me, but this area is off-limits as per new regulations by the Church of Zahras," they said. Dimitri turned around and came face-to-face with a young man. He wore a red and blue uniform, a sword on his hip. 

"My apologies," Dimitri said. "I shall get my husband and leave." 

"Your husband? The one in black cloak?" 

"Yes." 

"What is he doing? Honoring the Knights of Seiros is forbidden." 

Dimitri's eye widened. "I see." 

"Well, I'm about to fetch him if you're not." 

Before Dimitri moved, he looked the younger man in the eyes. A unique shade of green met his gaze. He blinked, then glanced back at Byleth grieving. "What's your name?" he asked. 

"Marth," he replied. "I'm a guard here at Garreg Mach. It seems you're new here. If you need help, please come find me. I won't tell anyone you two were here. It doesn't seem you had ill intentions." 

Dimitri sighed and nodded. "Thank you." 

The former king walked to the grave and placed a hand on Byleth's shoulder. Marth trailed, standing at the base of the stairs, watching them intently. 

"Byleth," Dimitri said, "we need to leave." 

"I'm not ready, Dimitri," Byleth replied, his voice bitter. 

"We are not allowed to be here." 

"Jeralt was my father!" he retorted with anger. "I  _ refuse _ to leave his grave until I'm ready." 

"You are going to get us arrested! The times are different." 

"Don't remind me." 

Marth walked up behind them. "Excuse me, but what are you two talking about?" 

"It's not your concern," Byleth said. 

"You're claiming Jeralt Eisner was your father?" 

"He was. He died in my arms." 

"Then..." 

"What?" 

Marth looked at Dimitri, then down at Byleth's covered figure. "No, that's not possible. Are you lying?" 

"What reason would I have to lie about it!?" Byleth exclaimed. "All his death has brought me is pain." 

"Byleth, come now..." Dimitri mumbled with a frown. 

"What?" Marth said. "This doesn't make sense!" 

"What do you mean?" 

"His name is Byleth, and he claims to be the son of Jeralt Eisner, which would make him Byleth Eisner. Byleth Eisner was married, and if he's your husband, then that would make you...Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd."

Dimitri startled. "How do you know that?" 

"You don't deny it," Marth said, one hand on his hip. "Yet you look so young." 

"It is a complex tale..."

"This isn't possible. They died over twenty years ago." 

"You seem to know quite a bit." 

Marth nodded. "I studied the history of the last archbishop and the last king in great detail." 

"Why?" Byleth interjected, still kneeled in front of the grave. 

"I found it interesting..." 

"Why?" he asked again. 

"It's fascinating that they disappeared without a trace. No bodies, no burial, and a kingdom that fell to chaos. Few belongings from them were scavenged. Their tales of battle against the empire are written in many folktale books, of fighting monsters and men, of immense strength." Marth paused and tilted his head. "Dimitri wore an eyepatch...and Byleth had green hair and eyes..." 

"Just like yours?" Dimitri said. 

Byleth turned his head and stood. He grasped the edges of his cloak and took the hood down, revealing his face and hair. Marth shook his head in disbelief as they stared at each other. Byleth stared into his eyes, both of the same matching color, then to his short, blonde and primed hair with bangs falling over his face. 

"What is going on!?" Marth exclaimed. 

"Twenty years ago I gave birth to a son," Byleth said. "He was named after my father, and heir to the throne of Faerghus. His name was Jeralt Eisner Blaiddyd." 

"Why are you telling me this?" 

"You seem to know a lot about me. Did you know that?"

Marth stayed silent. "I'm going to have to place you under arrest," he said. "As I said, honoring the Knights of Seiros is forbidden by the Church of Zahras. You have committed a top class offense." 

Dimitri shook his head, surprised by the sudden change. "But you just said--"

"It doesn't matter. You two are the ones committing the crime. Any weapons you have, lay them down." 

The couple exchanged glances. They could've easily defeated the young man before them and rushed off, but it wasn't ideal. Creating waves in a foreign world would only cause their detriment. However, the punishment for their "crime" could possibly be execution. Dimitri waited for Byleth's silent guidance before doing anything. He hoped they were both thinking the same thing. 

Byleth stared at Marth. He unhooked a dagger and threw it on the ground, never breaking eye-contact. Dimitri followed. Marth escorted them away, deep into the depths of the underground cells.


	20. Moonlight Reunion

The cells were as grungy and dark as Byleth remembered them. The contrast was in how many prisoners there were as opposed to decades prior. Byleth didn't make the habit of locking many people away as archbishop, and was heralded as merciful. The times were different. 

The overflow led to Dimitri and Byleth being locked in a cell together, or so they were told by Marth. He left and told them Lord Lief would be speaking with them about their crime when he was next available. There was no knowing who that was, but Byleth expected the worst. 

Byleth covered his face with his hood and leaned against one of the walls of the cell. Dimitri watched him in silence. There were no words he could say to make things better. Theirs was a hard lot, and it was only worsening by the hour. 

"If we get executed..." Byleth mumbled. "...we'll never know what happened to our son." 

"Beloved, don't you think..." 

"I'm not going to allow myself to believe that." 

Dimitri sighed. "He has your eye color. The one Lady Rhea said is unique to the holy bloodline." 

"There are others that share holy blood." 

"Byleth, I won't mince words. He looks like me in my academy days." 

"Don't say that, Dimitri," Byleth said with an uneven, broken tone, "don't give me hope." 

"Do you not see the similarities?" 

"We didn't name our son Marth." 

Dimitri shrugged. "His name might have been changed for some reason or another." 

"If that is indeed our son, he just arrested us and threw us in this cell. It's just as I said: _he doesn't need us._ It won't matter to him if we get executed. He's no child curled into my chest. He's a man with his own ideals and desires in a world that wasn't shaped by us." 

"Perhaps. I wonder why he would be right in Garreg Mach, though. Would your family leave him in the most vulnerable place?" 

"We don't have the answers, my love. This endless speculation tires me." 

"I am sorry. Let us try to at least get some rest." 

The couple curled together against one of the cold, stone walls, their backs leaned against it. Byleth placed his hood over his head and fell asleep against Dimitri's shoulder, a warm arm wrapped around him. It was solemn, the difference between day and night unknown. 

**-0-**

Locking the cell and walking away was an awful feeling. Marth walked back to the surface, and to the greenhouse to get an apple to eat. Before he could purchase it, he put it down and left with haste. He was bothered, lonely, and perplexed. 

His Uncle, Lief, was out of town on business and would return. It was up to him what would become of the prisoners Marth hid away. In Marth's mind, they weren't prisoners at all. He feared them disappearing before he could learn the truth. 

It was an instant regret. Perhaps one he'd never forgive himself for. 

His name wasn't Marth, rather Jeralt Eisner Blaiddyd. Marth was a fake name his uncle had given him in his youth, and it was only two years prior he learned the full truth. His name was hidden for his safety, and his history was laid out before him. It had come as a shock, but it was relief to have answers to so many questions. 

Dimitri and Byleth had disappeared when he was an infant. They were dead. Jeralt had known this for his whole life. 

Seeing two people so similar in appearance at Jeralt Eisner's grave, his namesake, was too jarring to be ignored. He didn't have the power to make decisions in his uncle's place, he was only a guard for the town. 

In the moment Byleth mentioned his son, Jeralt panicked. He either had to ask the impossible, or put them in the dungeons for his uncle to deal with. If none of those options were chosen, they would disappear. 

Jeralt should've asked in the graveyard, and suffered the bizarre embarrassment if things didn't go his way. Now, if things were as he hoped, he had made a horrible first impression. 

Dead parents didn't rise. He couldn't wrap his head around it all. 

The door creaked as he entered his room. It was the last on the row, close to the training grounds he so often frequented. He stepped over to his desk and pulled an aged, leather journal from the shelf. The pages flipped, full to the brim of cursive handwriting. He stopped at a particular entry:

_16th Day of the Ethereal Moon, 1186_

_My son, Jeralt Eisner Blaiddyd, was born in the few hours before dawn. It happened in a carriage on the roads between Garreg Mach Monastery and Fhirdiad. I was with Dimitri and Manuela, traveling in haste after the assassination attempt I mentioned in the previous entry._

_It was my decision. Dimitri wanted me to get an inn room, but it was too risky. Citizens don't know the truth about me, who I am, what I'm capable of, the true nature of my marriage. The pregnancy had been secret this entire time. Citizens wouldn't understand the king breaking down an inn door carrying his husband, obviously in pain. It would've caused chaos, and alerted our enemies to our location. I sensed that, so I chose to remain in the moving carriage headed toward the capital._

_I did this to ensure my son stayed safe. I care less about my own safety than his, but since he was still within my womb, it meant I couldn't be reckless. A birth is vulnerability for everyone involved, and for me, was the most vulnerable I've ever been. As I lie in bed in the early afternoon, just hours after the birth, I can't help but feel the positive outcome was the work of the Goddess._

_I can't be truthful to Dimitri. I can't tell him how agonizing that experience was. I'm sure he knows as much by being at my side, but I suppose I hid how taxing it was for me. With every push, I stayed silent and consumed with pain. Truthfully, I don't know how to express my pain, and I never yelped in war. This might be my biggest flaw._

_At first, I didn't want to trouble anyone. Then, things escalated, and Dimitri held me, heeded my every unspoken whim, and whispered things to me that I needed to hear. Without Dimitri's support--I hate to dramatize--but I don't think I would have survived. Not in one piece, anyway. It was stressful bringing a child into the world under such conditions._

_Dimitri was the first to hold our son, still and without a cry. My dear husband, king of the land, sobbed, and it frightened me. I've never heard such emotion from him, and I'll not ever forget it. Then, the child was passed to me, and the stillness was anguish. Then, a miracle happened, and he opened his eyes. I couldn't believe it. My son, thought dead upon birth, was alive and well. I couldn't contain my relief, my raw emotion._

_He's not yet cried. I hope he does soon. I need to know he needs me. I cannot rest, not with so many thoughts swirling in my head. I can't help but blame myself if anything is wrong with him. I'm sure the shock of the assassination attempt sent me into labor. It was during a walk with Dimitri, where I intended to induce labor, eager and ready to meet my child. I got it, just not in the way I wanted. I hate myself for this. If only I had stayed in my damn chambers._

_It's all in the past now. I love my son with my entire soul. I will root out these fiends so Dimitri and I can raise him in peace._

_I also just realized--my son was born on the Day of the White Heron Cup. So many years ago, when I was a professor, we celebrated at Garreg Mach with a ball. Dimitri got me alone, told me a "joke" about us being together forever. I suspect it wasn't a joke at all, which amuses me, given our roles as professor and student at the time. This day holds good memories for me, and is just four days shy of Dimitri's birthday._

_If only the world knew us as we truly are. This is not a political marriage as it's so often accused of being. If it was, Dimitri wouldn't have held me in his arms during not only the worst pain of my life, but the birth of our child. We may debate fervently at the council table, but in our private moments, we are two spouses, desperately in love. I hope we remain as such for the rest of our days._

The book was closed. Chills rushed through every fiber of Jeralt's being. There were many entries before and after the one written on the day of his birth, but none were as potent. In those words, his father seemed alive and present, full of emotion and love. He was known as the Ashen Demon, the last archbishop, or the king's spouse. Never was he known as a loving father and husband. This particular entry spoke a different tale. 

The journal was tucked carefully into his satchel. He inhaled deep to settle his soul, then walked out of his room. He had to face the truth, despite being terrified. His uncle should've been the one making the decisions, and Jeralt could face trouble for stepping beyond his boundaries, but he couldn't stay away. 

**-0-**

Dimitri eyed the opposite wall, listening to the dark sounds of the dungeon. Byleth was asleep on his shoulder, and kept him from shifting too much. The solemness continued with no sign of day or night. 

The shock of a new world was weighing on them. Byleth was distraught, Dimitri could sense it underneath everything that was happening. His husband's usual stoic composure was cracking. It was difficult to watch, but wasn't without merit. Dimitri's own soul was broken and at a loss. Voices of everyone he used to know called out to him, tormented him, given their fates were unknown. As such, his mind counted them as dead. He had hope, and questions, but the anguish was unrelenting through it all. 

Byleth shifted. It startled Dimitri when his hand was taken, nimble fingers rubbing over the outline of his wedding ring under his glove. He stayed silent and wrapped around the hand, giving it a squeeze. Byleth squeezed back, his expression covered by his hood. 

Footsteps echoed the hall as Jeralt made his way through. He held the journal in his satchel, gearing up for what he planned to do. It was terrifying in many ways, but he couldn't shy away. He would ask what he had been longing to, just not with bluntness. He thought it would spare him embarrassment if the worst occurred. 

He stopped at the cell with the lonely couple in it. They sat on the floor, and it made Jeralt's heart crack when he saw them holding hands. He straightened when Dimitri looked up at him. The journal was taken from his satchel with haste. 

"Is--Is this your handwriting...Byleth?" he asked, his voice uneven. 

Byleth tilted his head, his face still covered. The journal was passed through the iron bars. He stood and tugged it from his hand. The pages flipped. Dimitri pushed off the ground and stood over his shoulder to peer at the contents. With reflexes stiff from war, he caught the book when it was closed and dropped. Byleth snaked his hand through the bar and gripped Jeralt's shoulder. 

"Why do you have this!?" he rasped through tears. "Are you our son!?" 

"I don't know. _I don't know!_ Goddess, why is this happening!?" Jeralt rambled. 

"Please just tell me. I need to know. _I need to know!"_

"I...I'll have a guard release you. Come to the Goddess Tower after midnight. It's called the Zahras tower now, just keep that in mind. I'll...tell you about myself. I hope we can figure this out."

Jeralt rushed off, yanking out of Byleth's grip. Byleth reached, but couldn't catch him again. He turned and buried himself in Dimitri's chest, and strong arms wrapped around him. 

"What's going on, Dimitri?" he croaked. "It's driving me mad."

"I hope all will be explained to us. I think the fact he had your journal is very telling," Dimitri replied. 

"I have faith. Goddess, please..."

**-0-**

The moonlight illuminated the Goddess Tower. Byleth and Dimitri had spent the day wandering the former monastery in anticipation. They were exhausted, aching, and wary of the future. Despite it all, they were eager to learn the truth about what had happened during their long two decade absence. Byleth wrapped his hands around Dimitri's elbow as they ventured up to the top of the tower. Memories washed over both of them. 

"So many memories lie in this place..." Byleth mused. "The night of the ball, the day you proposed to me..." 

Dimitri nodded. "Those were pleasant days, weren't they?"

"They were. I cherish them. I'd give anything to return to them." 

Their conversation faded. After a while of gazing, footsteps echoed behind them. They turned around, and were met with the red and blue uniform from earlier in the day. The sword on Jeralt's hip clicked as he walked up to them. 

"I'm sorry about the visit to the dungeon. You don't have to forgive me," he said. He clasped his hands together and stared at the ground. "It's not much atonement, but I will answer any questions you may have with the truth." 

"Why did you arrest us?" Dimitri asked. 

"Fear. Panic. You two are suspicious, but not in a malicious way. My uncle is the one who should've been speaking with you before me, but he's out of town on diplomacy. I was afraid to have you slip away forever, yet I was also too afraid to ask for the truth, so...I thought I'd keep you in place until my uncle could deal with it. Usually, given my uncle's busy schedule, being a prisoner is the fastest way to see him. I was afraid you'd both disappear and we'd never find you again. This is awful, and no excuse. My words will never be enough for forgiveness." 

"Who is your uncle?" 

"My uncle is Leif, the noble of Garreg Mach. He revitalized the ruins of the former monastery some fifteen years ago. I was five years old at the time. He took charge, cleared out the bandits and rogues, and turned it into a text and textile exporter. His leadership has brought this town great success and prosperity."

Byleth shook his head with a furrowed brow. "Your past. Who are you exactly?" 

"I'm a guard of the town. I work for my uncle. I was trained in the sword, and in magic, from a young age. My parents...died when I was young. Or so I was told." 

"You said your name was Marth."

"Yes. That's the name I go by." Jeralt paused and brushed back his bangs. "Look, I know we're dancing around something unspoken between us. Please tell me, who are you and why are you here?"

Dimitri nodded with a sigh. "We fought in the attack on Garreg Mach Monastery twenty years ago. We were defending our church, and our kingdom, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. We had the upper hand until javelins of light were hurled our way. I tried to carry my injured husband to safety, but the width of the impact was too great, and it consumed us both. It didn't spell death, but rather, trapped us in a void. This happened because of Byleth's connection to Sothis. If he wasn't who he is, we would have likely died. We didn't, and we awoke a few days ago to a vastly different world, a world that had moved on without us. 

"I was king of the kingdom. Byleth was the archbishop. We had a son, and we entrusted him to a man named Seteth, and also to two women named Flayn and Rhea. They were like family to us, and we promised it was only for the battle. Yet, it wasn't. We never returned, and essentially orphaned our child." 

"So you _are_ Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd..." Jeralt said, eyes wide with surprise. 

"Yes. This is my husband, Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd."

"Marth isn't my name. My uncle isn't named Lief either. Those are names he gave him and I when we moved to Garreg Mach when I was five. Before that, I remember, vaguely, living by the sea. After leaving the sea, he was strict in making sure I went by Marth. I never understood why until a few years ago.

"My uncle, Seteth, told me everything. What happened to my parents, why he raised me, and why I had to live under a different name. I learned the truth about my power, the two crests I hold within: the Crest of Blaiddyd and the Crest of Flames. And, I was given my father's journal to read over and keep. I was shown the Sword of the Creator, still hidden from everyone, and proved that I can wield it. I know it all, all the coveted truths hidden away by the Church of Zahras. 

"I'm not some nameless guard of the town. I'm the heir to a lost kingdom, your kingdom. I can say this with confidence now that we've spoken: I'm your son, Jeralt Eisner Blaiddyd."

It was silent. Byleth covered his mouth to stifle tears. He had never been one to bear his emotions outright, but the birth of his son changed everything. His body interpreted it as being a mere three months prior, yet in reality two decades had passed. Being trapped in the void, he was locked in time. Upon being freed from it, his body still acted as if it were in yesteryear, unaware of the abrupt change. Dimitri furrowed his brow, lost in shock and speechless at the revelation before him. 

"We wanted to believe such was the case when we first saw you, when we noticed your eye color," he said. "Yet, hearing it from your lips has finally made it so."

Jeralt furrowed his brow in return. "I always wondered about you. I always dreamed of calling you Papa, though I believed it wasn't possible." 

"You deserved better from me than one sword and a world of troubles," Byleth interjected, his voice weak. "I'm sorry."

"Father..." 

"To me, it seems I saw you just a few days ago. I left you after spending every waking moment with you, caring for your needs as an infant. Now...I blinked my eyes and here you are. You're a young man, you don't need us to grant your every whim, but...I hope you'll allow us the honor of being a part of your life, of getting to know you."

Jeralt bowed, one arm at his back and the other at his chest. "The honor is mine, Father."

"Thank you..." Byleth said with a sniffle. He wiped his tears from his cheeks, and noticed Dimitri was doing the same. 

"Father, Papa...don't cry. This is a joyous occasion."

Dimitri shook his head with a soft smile. "These are happy tears, my son."

It was quiet as Byleth moved, trapping his son in a warm embrace. It was reciprocated, and long dormant emotions flowed. Dimitri watched, and soon joined, wrapping both of them in his larger hold. Jeralt wrapped one arm around each of them, and they shared a tearful reunion.


	21. The Words of Scholars

The doors to Jeralt's small, one room abode were opened an hour after midnight. Dimitri and Byleth were behind him, still in shock and awe at what had happened. It was surreal to connect the dots with the infant they once had and the young man before them. Yet, when they gazed into his emerald eyes, or looked at his blonde hair, it clicked. He had retained qualities from both of them, even after years apart. 

The family stepped in, and Jeralt closed the door behind them. He sighed with a frown when he stepped into the middle of the room. “This is my room. The rent is modest, but in all honesty, it’s covered by my uncle. I assist him with all sorts of manners, when I’m not on guard duty.” 

Byleth shook his head, pensive thoughts wild in his mind. The room was nearly identical as he once had it so many years ago. “Perhaps this is presumptuous, but I think I may know why Seteth covers the rent, beyond you being his nephew, of course.” 

“What would that be?” 

“This was my room, many years ago, when I was a professor at the officer’s academy. Seteth assigned it to me, he said he wanted at least one instructor near the students to keep an eye on them. I even stayed in this room during the war. Perhaps he thought he was passing down what was mine to you.” 

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.” Byleth walked over to what was once his desk. “This was my workspace. If this is the same desk, then it should have…”

His voice trailed as he snaked his hand underneath it. A hard lever was located by muscle memory, and he pulled. An extra compartment unlocked, and rusted hinges splayed open. Jeralt stood in awe. 

“What is all that!?” he exclaimed. “I hadn’t the faintest idea there was an extra compartment in this desk.”

Byleth smiled softly. “I found by accident one day when I was cleaning. I wasn’t trying to keep secrets, I just used it as extra storage. Then, when the war was over and I was appointed archbishop, I forgot about coming back to clean it out.” 

Weathered, loose papers were placed on the desk, many of them notes on lesson plans, diagrams for battle formations, and notes on flowers in the greenhouse. A small lion brooch and letter were fished out last. Dimitri crossed his arms with a nostalgic smile. 

“Hey, I gave you that brooch for your birthday,” he said. 

“Yes, you did. I stored it because I didn’t wish for it to get lost..” Byleth nodded. He placed his hand on his chin. “Though, that was the gift Dimitri  _ admitted _ to giving me. For every gift he gave, I got more from him anonymously.” 

“Still with the flowers? I told you, I was nervous about telling you they were from me!”

Jeralt placed the brooch back on the table after inspecting it. He chuckled. “I don’t understand what is going on, but...I am grateful to have this chance to get to know you both. Thank you.” 

A soft hand cupped Jeralt’s shoulder. Byleth nodded at him with a wistful, yet thankful gaze as he looked his son over. He moved his hand to cup his cheek, a bygone gesture that seemed like it was commonplace yesterday. After a few moments, the hand pulled away as reality set in further. The child that was soothed by his touch was no more. The deeper into his mind he went, the more it stung. 

“There is no need to thank me,” Byleth said. “ _ I left you. _ For all intents and purposes, I have been dead for the past twenty years. I cannot turn back time that much, even with my abilities. I had so many hopes and dreams of our life together, the life that was just beginning. It never happened. For that, I am truly sorry.” 

“Byleth is right, no matter how much I would rather coat this with positive words…” Dimitri interjected. “Words will never be enough to express how sorry I am that we left you. There is nothing I can do to change that. It happened fast, and the enemy was far more advanced than we thought possible. Honestly, you are grown, older than I was when I met Byleth. We need you more than you need us. You have lived your whole life without us. For us, it seems like yesterday we were talking about you tugging on Byleth’s hair or pulling my eyepatch. We do not understand this world we are in. Time was stolen from us.”

Jeralt frowned. “I can’t claim to understand how you both feel, given all the change you see before you. Just know that I harbor no resentment towards either of you. I grew up thinking my parents died in battle, protecting the kingdom they held dear. History has done nothing but shine a light on you two while the world shudders in the darkness.” 

“Perhaps, but my own failures lead us here. That girl, Audrina, slipped from my grasp,  _ under my watch, _ and now look at what has happened…” Byleth argued, his voice soft. 

“I don’t think it was your fault. Do know that I read your journals when my uncle gave them to me on my eighteenth birthday. I read through every entry over and over just to get to know you. For the first time in my life, I felt as though I truly loved you beyond simple gratitude of being my parent. It was then I grieved you for the first time as well, for I knew I had lost something great when my parents died.  _ You died, _ Father. Yet, you’re here. Did you come back...for me?” 

“ _ Yes. _ I have no reason to carry on without my family. I lived and breathed for you all those years ago, even before you were born. I cannot comprehend all the time in my life I’ve lost--twenty-five years total. I’ve been asleep longer than I’ve lived. And every time I rest, I fail someone else. I left Dimitri and I left you.” 

Jeralt’s heart shattered. To see his father in such pain so soon after their reunion was hard to witness. The love Byleth had for him was clear in the remorse, the blame, and the self-deprecation. Dimitri seemed the same way, though he was quieter in his shock. If only they could understand Jeralt was full of joy and excitement to be with them. It seemed insensitive, and Jeralt felt guilty for it. It was clear his parents were struggling with the world they were thrusted into. There was a lot about them he didn’t understand. 

“I am sorry, my son. I think we are overwhelming you…” Dimitri said, one hand on Byleth’s shoulder. “It is quite late, the dawn will soon be upon us. You must have things you need to tend to. We will leave you be.” 

“No, Papa, please, don’t go unless you feel you must. I will give you coin for an inn room so you can rest, but you don’t have to leave until you’re ready. I don’t mind talking with you more,  _ listening _ to you more. Sleep will evade me tonight, just for the simple shock of meeting my parents for the first time,” Jeralt replied, fearful they would disappear again. 

“It will evade us as well, I know that for certain.” 

_ “Then stay,”  _ Jeralt begged. “There is much I want to ask you, I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sure you feel the same about me. So, if none of us will rest, perhaps we can use this time to get to know each other.”

Jeralt guided both of his parents to sit on his bed, and afterward, turned the desk chair around to face them. He poured them cups of water from the small jug on his windowsill. The couple thanked him, and the room fell silent as they sipped. 

“Seteth, what is he doing? Where is he?” Byleth asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“He is the noble of Garreg Mach, a small territory of the greater Empire of Zahras. When I was five, he and a small group of those close to the late king and archbishop cleared out the bandits and reformed the former monastery. He has watched over it ever since,” Jeralt explained. “His exact reasons are not something he’s ever explained to me. Perhaps it would best to ask him those things.”

“Dedue...whatever happened to him?” Dimitri mused with a pained expression. 

“Uncle Dedue? He lives here with his wife, Annette.” Jeralt chuckled. “He doesn’t like it when I call him uncle, he says I’m the rightful king. To what though, I’m not sure. The Kingdom of Faerghus is no more. You were its last king, Papa.” 

“So he kept watch over my son all these years in my absence. Unbelievable.” 

“He never believed you died, and searched for you many years while his wife tended to a school of sorcery in Fhirdiad. When I was about six or seven they moved to the revitalized Garreg Mach. When I was ten, he searched for you for the last time. After that, he dedicated his time to looking after me and teaching me in the ways of battle.” 

“I wish to speak with him again, if that is possible. However, we can worry about that another time.”

“Of course. He lives in the town at the base of the upper parts of the city.” 

“You mentioned the history surrounding us…” Byleth interjected. “What do the scholars say about us?”

Jeralt turned and pulled a book off the upper shelf of the desk. He handed it to his father. “It’s likely something you’d understand more if you read it for yourself, rather than me telling you.” 

The book was flipped through. It was a thin volume of about eighty pages, but was entirely dedicated to Dimitri and Byleth as a couple. Byleth flushed as he read through various passages:

_ Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd was born in an unknown year in an unknown location to Jeralt Eisner and an unknown wife. Much of his early life is lost to history, but scholars have confirmed he was raised by his father, Jeralt, and traveled among mercenaries. Byleth became a mercenary himself, slaying foes without a hint of expression. Thus, he became both admired and feared by fellow mercenaries, and was known as the “Ashen Demon”. In 1180, he became a professor in the officer’s academy at Garreg Mach monastery. The exact reason for abruptly resigning mercenary life and choosing to teach has never been properly documented. This period is when he met his future husband, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, who was a student there at the time.  _

A frown appeared on Byleth’s face as he felt Dimitri peer over his shoulder. Most of his life was shrouded in mystery, and he realized this was true for his son’s knowledge of him as well. Seteth surely mentioned them from time to time, but even so, they had been clouded figures for decades. Reading a book about himself, from Jeralt’s personal collection, was surreal in more ways than one. He swallowed guilt and kept reading:

_ Due to Dimitri’s status as heir to the Faerghus throne, much of his life is documented. However, there is a five year time span between The Battle of Garreg Mach in 1181 and early 1885 that are completely undocumented, and his whereabouts were unknown. He escaped a false sentencing during the coup of Fhirdiad in 1181, and disappeared into obscurity. He mysteriously reappeared with Byleth at Garreg Mach in 1185. Many former students of the academy returned at the same time, and the exact reason is unknown. It was then the resistance against the Adrestian Empire began in earnest.  _

_ Due to the abrupt reappearance of Dimitri and Byleth at the same time, after both had gone missing, it is speculated they were together during the five year time period. However, while rumors circulated that Dimitri was alive and living as a vagrant, no such documentation exists of Byleth’s whereabouts. Some say he returned to mercenary life, others say he spent the time recovering from severe injuries incurred at the Battle of Garreg Mach.  _

_ After the war, a new era for the holy kingdom began. Not long after peace treaties were signed, Dimitri announced his marriage to Byleth. Many were shocked by this choice, given Byleth was a male and Dimitri was expected to produce an heir to his legacy. Despite any criticisms, the two were wed in late 1185, the official coronation taking place the same week.  _

_ In public, the two were strictly professional, often engaging in heated debate during councils. However, in private, it is said they were an extremely loving couple. Many knights report seeing Byleth standing at the gates of the monastery, eagerly greeting his spouse’s return with a soft smile and an embrace. Another story from a florist recounts Dimitri buying Byleth bouquets to be delivered every day during a leave of absence, which brought the archbishop great joy. Byleth’s gentle approach in marriage and citizenry alike earned him the title the Grace of House Blaiddyd.  _

_ Rumors often circulated Byleth, given his private nature regarding many aspects of his life. During much of 1186, he all but slipped away from the public eye. His reformation of the church is documented through letters and creeds, but no count of him engaging with citizenry exists. Some former servants of the monastery and Fhirdiad palace alike claim that his demeanor shifted during this time. His manner of dress was mostly large cloaks and tunics, not traditional holy or royal robes. He often ordered sweets from the dining hall, despite previously expressing a disinterest in them. Some report he often walked as if in pain or retired to his chambers at odd times of the day.  _

_ The most peculiar report was knights of the royal House Blaiddyd guard claiming odd behavior from both Byleth and Dimitri in December 1186. Upon arrival at the palace, Dimtri carried Byleth in his arms to their personal chambers. Byleth is said to have appeared, “pale, hollow, and sweating,” and “deathly ill with a fever”. Others report it looked as if Dimitri had, “been in severe distress during the carriage ride”. No explanation was offered by the couple. It left scholars scratching their heads as to what sort of ailment inflicted the archbishop, and why it was kept secret. _

The book closed. Byleth couldn’t bring himself to read further, his skin aflame. He patted his warm cheeks and sighed. “I admit, I’m a bit embarrassed to know that my son only knows me through this conjecture…” 

“No one ever figured out we had a child together…” Dimitri mused. 

Byleth swallowed with furrowed brows, his gaze on his son. “I suppose you already know this, but...I was never afflicted with an ailment. My odd tendencies were just me expecting you. I suppose no one ever thought such a thing possible.” 

“No, though citizens spread rumors about a secret heir to Faerghus, scholars dismissed them as legends. It actually made it easier for my uncle to skew my identity,” Jeralt replied. 

“I am forever grateful to Seteth for what he has done for you. I hope to speak with him again soon.”

“I will ensure it.” Jeralt looked to the coming dawn through the windows. “It will be dawn soon. Please, allow me to get you an inn room. If it is rented this morning, you will be able to stay the night and leave tomorrow. By then, my uncle will have returned.” 

Byleth was quick to fret. “No, I’m sorry, but I cannot accept that. It’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around. Given I haven’t been much of a parent at all to you, I don’t want you to burden yourself with taking care of me.” 

“Father, it’s no trouble, really.” 

Dimitri stood. He patted Byleth’s shoulder. “Step outside for a moment, Byleth. Get some fresh air.” 

“Why?” Byleth shook his head, not approving of his request. 

“Please?”

“Fine.”

The door clicked closed. Jeralt stood, intimidated by being alone with Dimitri for the first time. The stories of Dimitri’s “beastly” past were scribed in every book written about him. Tales were abound of him crushing men with his bare hands, chasing the Adrestian Emperor through Gronder Field, smashing heads and stabbing chests along the way. Rumors had often spread he brutally murdered generals during wartime, and was a vagrant, unkempt savage until Byleth led him out of the darkness. All of this culminated in his mind, and he was unable to speak. 

“I am sorry,” Dimitri spoke. “Your father is in shock. Honestly, so am I. The truth is, as I said before, we need you more than you need us. Byleth cannot fathom it, given he was dedicated to your needs as an infant…” 

There was silence. Dimitri sighed and put a hand on his waist, his brow furrowed. “The last time I saw you, I said something to you. Of course you won’t remember, but...I told you that your father needs you more than he needs breath. Believe me, he may not realize it, but it is the truth. You may not have grown up knowing it, but for the short time we were together, you were our everything. There was no length we would not go to see you safe, even to the point of hiding you from my kingdom.”

“I...see. Thank you, Papa,” Jeralt replied, his voice quiet. 

“I am telling you this because I am anticipating the near future. Byleth will fret, he will be protective, he will want to know everything about you, and provide for your every whim. He may become overbearing. As the one who gave birth to you, those are just part of his instincts. He wants you to need  _ him _ , not the only way around. That is why he wants to refuse your kindness, but he knows underneath it all we cannot afford to do that.” 

“I understand this all so overwhelming for everyone involved. I can’t fathom what he may be feeling.” 

“We cannot fathom what you may be feeling, either. But, if you are willing, I hope we can work through this together as a family.” 

Jeralt nodded with a slight smile. “I would like that.” 

Two strong arms wrapped Jeralt in an embrace. He startled, a far-off place in his mind fearful of being crushed. However, when a gentle hand rubbed along his back as the embrace lingered, it faded. His fingers tangled in the fur of his father’s cape. 

“You look as I did during my academy days,” Dimitri mumbled into his shoulder, “but I hope you have Byleth’s temperament.” 

“My uncle has always said I have your body and my father's brain.” 

Dimitri chuckled. “A combination I can settle for,” he said as he pulled away. 

“Please, may I get you a room for the day?” 

“Yes, thank you. If your father frets, please forgive him. He loves you with his whole soul. That is the truest thing I know.” 

Jeralt nodded with a smile. “Of course.”


	22. Together Again

The inn room was warm and inviting at the break of dawn. Jeralt stood in front of his parents, both lagging with exhaustion. He was exhausted himself, but still too shocked to settle down. All he could think of was seeing Seteth to tell him what had happened while he was away. Afterward, he’d find Dedue, and tell him also. The anticipation of doing both pumped his veins full of willpower, and kept him awake. 

“Thank you, my son,” Dimitri said. “We only have what’s in our pockets, and it was not enough to purchase another night in an inn. We will make it up to you, I promise.” 

“It was no trouble at all, Papa,” Jeralt replied. He bowed. “Please, get some rest. I shall return, hopefully to take you to see my uncle.”

Byleth stiffened. He feared Jeralt leaving to never return, though it was more rooted in panic than logic. He nodded, trying to tame his distress. Before Jeralt could turn to walk away, Byleth wrapped him in another embrace. It startled him a bit, his head against his father’s chest. His eyes widened at the silence. 

“Thank you, my dear child,” Byleth said, his voice breathless. “I love you.” 

The words sunk into Jeralt’s heart, and it beat faster. He didn’t know what to do first, fall to tears or raise concern about what he couldn’t find in his father’s ribcage. Byleth pulled away with a warm smile, his hand cupping Jeralt’s cheek. 

Jeralt furrowed his brow. He gripped Byleth’s forearm with worry. “Father, your heart--” 

“It doesn’t beat. It never has,” Byleth interjected. “Worry not for me. It’s part of my power.” 

“I see. That’s a relief. I’ll leave you to rest.” He bowed again. “I’ll return soon.” 

The door clicked shut, Dimitri locking it afterward. Byleth sighed and sat on the edge of bed, hands in his lap. His husband soon joined him. The surreal nature of their day sunk into the silence. Dimitri grabbed Byleth’s hand and squeezed. 

“How about a bath? We haven’t bathed since we woke in this time,” he said. 

“I can’t believe my eyes,” Byleth mumbled. _“My son…”_

“He is a fine young man.” 

“It’s difficult to hear someone call me father. It’s not unwelcome, just strange to my ear.” 

Dimitri nodded. He beckoned Byleth to the bath, taking his hand when he stood. “In time, I am sure it will get easier. To be honest, we are lucky to be here with him at all.” 

“This is true,” Byleth replied with a sigh. “It’s hard to connect the dots, to know that the infant is gone, and the young man we see before us replaced him.” 

“I feel the same. We will have to sort this through with him, but I find it nice to be able to speak with him, and for him to speak back. That was never the case when he was an infant.” 

“Perhaps. But we lost so much in between...” 

The warm water steamed the room. The couple undressed and slipped in, aching bones eased after so much stress. Byleth rested against Dimitri’s chest as they soaked in the suds, nothing said between them. The years lost sank to the bottom of the tub, and the only thing left was to wash them away and move on. 

**-0-**

The early morning was busy in the central building of upper Garreg Mach. Various offices for oversight were lined in the halls, people bustling around. With each step, Jeralt grew more nervous. How would he explain what had transpired over the past few days? How would he make his uncle believe he wasn’t insane? 

It was going to be difficult, but he couldn’t turn away, not after he promised his parents they would reunite. He would have to keep pushing until Seteth understood, and realized what was being said was the truth. It was easier said than done, and simply thinking about it wasn’t easy. 

He inhaled and knocked on the open office door, then was allowed in. The violet carpeting was his view as he avoided Seteth’s gaze. He shut the door behind him and bowed, his heart in his ears. Seteth smiled slightly, bowing his head as greeting. 

“Good morning, nephew,” he said. “How may I help you this morning?” 

Jeralt stiffened, breath shaking. “Uncle, something happened while you were away that I think you should know about.” 

“What is it?” Seteth replied, his tone shifting from casual to serious. “Is it urgent?” 

“It’s nothing of danger, no, but it is urgent. While patrolling, I found two people at Jeralt Eisner’s grave, grieving him. I warned them that honoring Knights of Seiros is illegal, and they...didn’t understand. Then, one of them refused to leave, claiming that he was Jeralt’s son. So I...spoke with them more. They said they were Byleth Eisner and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.” 

It was quiet. Seteth dropped his quill and stared at the desk, his expression unreadable. He shook his head, unable to respond right away. “Are you certain?” he whispered. 

Jeralt moved closer to the desk and leaned down. “Byleth asked where you were, yet did not use your name. He called by a name from long ago. He called you... _Seteth_.” 

“Oh by the Goddess-- _Byleth,”_ Seteth exhaled, in shock. “How!?” 

“He said the power of Sothis locked him in a state of stasis after getting trapped in an attack, and that power allowed Dimitri to join him in being locked away. It was only recently they were released from that void.” 

Papers fell to the floor as Seteth stood. _“Where are they?”_

“Resting in an inn within town. They were exhausted and in need of somewhere to stay, so I rented them a room and told them I’d let you know they were alive.” 

“Bring them to the audience chamber. Quickly.” 

Jeralt bowed. “Yes, Uncle.” 

**-0-**

Pacing the audience chamber, Seteth couldn’t slow himself. He couldn’t believe what Jeralt was saying, not for lack of trust, but by the suddenness at which it occurred. The truth had to be confirmed with his own eyes before he told Flayn, or anyone else that was once close to the long lost couple. Twenty years ago he had made a promise, the promise to keep Jeralt safe should the worst happen. No matter how much time passed, Seteth would keep his word. He had kept close watch over Flayn for centuries, and was willing to do the same for the late archbishop’s son. 

Yet, if what Jeralt said was the truth, then his promise was fulfilled upon the return of his parents. It was an unbelievable concept. 

The doors opened. Before Seteth could comprehend what was right before his eyes, he was engulfed in an embrace. He startled back, the touch a stark confirmation: Byleth had returned. 

“Oh, Seteth,” Byleth breathed, his hold tight. “Thank you for looking after my son.” 

“Byleth, is it really you?” Seteth mumbled back. 

“Yes.” He pulled away so they could look at each other. “Through the power of Sothis, I survived the blast of light all those years ago. It put Dimitri and I into a long slumber.” 

Seteth’s eyes wandered to the back of the room, and landed on Jeralt and Dimitri standing side by side. He blinked, the situation overwhelming. “I had faith that you were alive. For years we searched every canyon, every nook and cranny, every dead passageway, even Abyss. There was no trace of either of you.” 

“And yet, you haven’t aged a day,” Byleth said with a warm smile. “I cannot express my gratitude. I had no intention of saddling you with my infant all those years ago. It was not your burden to bear.”

“It was no burden. You saved Flayn’s life, I will never forget that. Even that aside, I would have chosen to anyway. His blood is unique. Someone who understood that and knew how to handle it was best up to the task.” 

“I feel awful still. I had no intention of abandoning my church and kingdom.” 

Seteth shook his head. “The technology of those who slither in the dark is unrivaled. We were no match. I fought back their forces as much as I could before retreating. When word spread that the royal couple was missing, I started the search party. Once it was clear that was fruitless, I traveled back to the Rhodos coast to meet with Rhea. 

“Rhea looked after Jeralt while I continued the search. A year passed. With the king of Faerghus gone, the kingdom fell to chaos. Those of us close to you meet at council. We discussed revealing Jeralt’s identity and his heir status to quell public concern. I advised against it. It was against your wishes, and at that time, the enemy's forces were great in number and hard to fight against. I didn’t want to risk Jeralt’s safety over it, especially since he was in more danger than before. So, Rhea and I took him into our care and went into hiding.”

“Rhea? Where is she?” 

“Slumbering deep below Garreg Mach. After those who slither in the dark rose to power, they put a large bounty on her head, calling for her execution. At that point she wished to distance herself from us for our safety. She requested that I cast an ancient spell on her, putting her into hidden stasis until awoken by an outside force. I agreed, and told her once the world was different, I’d seek her out. She always believed we’d see you again, and wanted to aid you once we did.” 

Byleth nodded, a finger on his chin. “Is this why you revitalized Garreg Mach as a township? To keep watch over it, and her?” 

“Precisely. Under my watch, this holy place will not fall to ruins. I have had to rebrand it as something else, but should this empire those slithering fiends founded fall, it will be here to bring the Goddess back to the people.” 

“Thank you, Seteth. I didn’t mean to saddle you with burden when I said I would leave everyone in your hands. But, perhaps, some part of me knew I wasn’t coming back…” 

“You must be weakened after the strain of waking from such a long slumber. Give yourselves some to rest, perhaps for the next two or three days. In that time, I’ll gather the necessary supplies for us to find Rhea and wake her. Once she has returned, we can discuss what our next plans are.” 

“Of course. I’m ready to retrieve her whenever you are.” 

“Yes…” Seteth paused with a smile. “Welcome back, Byleth. Take the time to spend with your son.” 

Tears bubbled and were swallowed as Byleth nodded. “Thank you.” 

**-0-**

Mid-morning the next day broke through the windows of the inn. Byleth exhaled into a pillow, his muscles aching. With enough effort, he was able to turn and stare at the ceiling, the light smell of lavender greeting him. A yawn came from the other side of the bed, and Byleth sighed in response. 

“Are you as exhausted as I am?” Byleth mumbled. 

“Does your head ache from all of this like mine does?” Dimitri asked. 

“Yes. But, we have our son, and we reunited with Seteth. It puts me more at ease. We’re not wandering alone.” 

“I am relieved that is the case. Though, I admit, I am not sure what we are to do in this new world…” 

Byleth frowned, realizing the thought had never crossed his mind. “Perhaps...I don’t know.”

Before the conversation could continue, there was a knock on the door. The couple glanced at each other with weary eyes. Byleth rose and threw his new cloak over his small clothes and tied it. The door creaked open partially. Jeralt bit his lip, his hands behind his back. 

“Hello, Father…” he said, nervousness in his tone. “Uncle relieved me of my duties. I was wondering if you and Papa would like to join me for breakfast?” 

Byleth smiled and nodded. “Of course. Allow us to dress and we’ll join you.” 

The dining hall was as bustling as ever, serving a menu not much different from the days of the officer’s academy. After ordering, the small family found a free spot in the far corner. Byleth sat next to his son as Dimitri sat across from them. They began to eat, things mostly quiet between them. 

“What are some things that you like to do, my son?” Dimitri asked, breaking the silence. 

A smile formed on the young man’s face as he sipped from his cup. “Well, I like to fish. My uncle taught me when I was younger. I also like swordsmanship, studying tactics, and magic. Studying the history of Faerghus has always been a particular interest of mine as well, for obvious reasons.” 

“I see. Weaponry has always been a hobby of mine as well. Though, I do have the bad habit of breaking things easily…” 

Jeralt chuckled. “I’ve heard the tales.”

“Dimitri learned about advanced battle strategy back in his academy days,” Byleth interjected. He chuckled with a teasing tone. “He was a good student.” 

“It’s quite amazing that professor and student became king and archbishop, then got married. It’s not often one marries someone they taught, even if the years pass.” 

“I don’t think anyone else could handle our highs and lows like we can for each other. I knew for a while I cared a great deal about Dimitri but was always too nervous to say anything. I didn’t have to. Dimitri came to me.” 

“Well, I proposed to him at night,” Dimitri said. “The day leading up to it, I couldn’t concentrate. After my duties were done, I went to the training grounds and snapped a few lances because I was so nervous.” 

“It’s a wonder we’re even married at all, to be honest,” Byleth replied, his expression light. “There were many close calls over the years.”

Jeralt nodded and finished his plate. “I read about the many trials and tribulations of the war. Dedue spoke of them to me also. Speaking of him, I stopped by his home earlier this morning. Annette said he’s busy, but will be free in the afternoon. We’ll visit him if you’d like.” 

“Yes, please. Take us to him when there is time.” 

The meal continued, light chatter between the three of them. Despite the surreal nature, the experience of dining with their son for the first time was priceless to the couple. It was something that should’ve happened decades ago, if not for stolen years. The more Byleth got to know his son, the more disgruntled he became. He needed to avenge lost time, and a lost kingdom.

**-0-**

The abode of Dedue and Annette was small and humble from the outside. Flowers adorned the inside windows, sheltered from the cold. Jeralt stood in front of his parents and knocked a few times. The door swung open. Annette, her hair braided in a crown around her head, quickly pulled Jeralt inside, and out of the way. Without a word, she grabbed Byleth’s hand and yanked him into an embrace. 

_“Professor…”_ she mumbled. “We thought you were lost.” 

“So did I…” Byleth mumbled, returning her embrace. “I am sorry. Thank you for looking after my son.”

“It was nothing. He’s a sweet boy-- _Your Majesty_ …” Annette pulled away from Byleth and moved to Dimitri, wrapping him in her arms. “This land has been lost without you.”

“Annette...I am truly sorry. I never meant--” Dimitri began, but she quieted him before he could say more.

‘No. You were attacked by tyrants and fiends. Those that did not like our kingdom, and sought to destroy it. And...they won,” she said as she stepped back. “Dedue and I married five years after you disappeared. He never told me, not until after we wed, that he had been looking after the king’s son.” 

“They were threatening him before he was born. We had no choice but to hide his existence.” 

“I understand, Your Majesty. You are not to blame for what happened. Dedue will be home soon. I have not told him the truth yet. I honestly had a hard time believing it, and had to look for myself before dragging him into it.” 

“We are not royals anymore, Annette. There is no need for formality.” 

Annette shook her head and beckoned them into the kitchen. She sat them down and began to serve tea. “No, I’m sorry, but I must. You will always be the rightful leader of this land,” she said. “Your glory was stolen from you.” 

“So it seems…” Dimitri said with a frown. 

“Your son looks so much like you, Your Majesty. I see it more than ever, now that you’re both rightfully side by side.” 

“He does, doesn’t he?” Byleth interjected. He smiled. “I wonder if he got anything from me.” 

“Your wit, without a doubt,” Annette said with a chuckle. She placed a basket of cookies on the table. “Please, help yourself. I always bake more sweets than Dedue and I can eat alone, anyways.”

A hand dove into the basket, snatching three of them. Jeralt shoved them in his mouth. “Thank you, Annette. Your sweets are the best.” 

Dimitri laughed and sipped from his cup. “Sweet tooth noted. Perhaps you get that from your father. All he ever did when he was expecting you was eat sweets.” 

“Why must you expose my secrets? You’re making me flustered, Dimitri!” Byleth exclaimed, his cheeks red. 

The table shared in the moment of lightheartedness, reunited after worlds apart. Some time passed with light chatter and filling in the years. The cookies slowly dwindled, hands reaching in over and over again. Byleth noticed Jeralt’s appetite was the same grand scale as Dimitri’s. His heart swelled. The more they learned about him, the more clear it came that they had lived within him for all the years they were absent. 

The door opened. Annette rose and walked back into the den, her voice cheerful. When Dedue responded, it reached Dimitri’s ear, and startled him. The same voice from years passed, the same friend, the same loyal vassal. No matter what Dedue said, Dimitri always saw him as family, now more than ever. He stood and turned, awaiting the moment he turned the corner. 

“Dedue, we have some visitors,” Annette said. 

“Oh, is it His Highness?” Dedue replied. Jeralt caught Byleth’s eyes and shrugged shyly. No matter how much Jeralt insisted that there was no need to refer to him as such, it went contested. Dedue always argued that his promise to Dimitri was one he’d die upholding. It was something Jeralt didn’t understand. He hoped seeing the former king and vassal side by side would give him answers. 

“Well, yes--but--actually, no. You won’t believe it unless you see it. Come with me.” 

Footsteps creaked the aged wooden floors. Dedue turned the corner. The expression of unexpected awe, of speechlessness, on his face brought Dimitri to tears. They stared at each other for a minute, completely shocked into stillness. Dedue’s eyes never left his face, and had not yet noticed Byleth was sitting at the table. 

“Your Majesty?” he mumbled. His voice grew louder as reality took hold. _“Your Majesty!”_

“Dedue, I am so sorry I left you. I was locked in a void for twenty long years. My words--they will never be enough,” Dimitri said, his voice cracking. “Thank you for looking after my son. My friends, my family, my home... _everything_ that truly mattered to me, I couldn’t protect…”

“You’re wrong! Because of you, I was able to live on until today. You saved me. Those years that we spent together, I was proud to have been by your side. It was a joy that I could have never hoped for. Even after you were gone, that pride remained. I couldn’t abandon your son, not when he lost everything so young. He was the only thing left of you, the one I promised to protect.” 

“I--I see…Thank you.” 

“I don’t care what anyone says, least of all that damned “queen”. You are the one true king, Dimitri.”

Dimitri couldn’t restrain himself. He had never embraced his vassal, not for lack of wanting, but out of respect for Dedue’s wishes. After everything, he couldn’t respect that wish any longer. He stepped and wrapped him in his arms. Much to his surprise, it was reciprocated. 

When they pulled away, Dedue’s eyes landed on Byleth. Another waved of shock hit him. “Your Grace?” 

The chair creaked as Byleth stood. He made his way over to Dedue and didn’t hesitate to embrace him. “Dedue, I shared Dimitri’s fate, we were together when it happened. Thank you for all you’ve done. Words will never be enough to express my gratitude.” 

“Seeing the royal couple together after all these years, it is a true blessing.” 

Annette smiled at them. “Now that we’re together again, we’re not letting you go so soon. Stay for dinner.” 

“Thank you for the kind offer,” Byleth replied. “I would love to hear about how your life has been these past years.” 

The kitchen steamed with the smell of great cooking as Dedue and Annette prepared a hearty meal at their insistence. The kindness of past friends was hard to grasp, given the years that had passed. Byleth smiled, and chatted among everyone, and Dimitri did the same. However, something lingered deep within them, something rustling to break free. The will to pick up a sword, to resist that which they didn’t understand, was growing. Byleth didn’t know how Dimitri felt, but he knew he didn’t need to accept the world around him. It had stolen from him, it had stolen from his family and his friends. Those responsible deserved punishment. 


	23. Spell of Flames

The morning after reuniting with Dedue, Byleth and Dimitri found themselves in the old training grounds. Seteth said they would be ready to retrieve Rhea in the afternoon, which meant the morning was free for leisure. After breakfast, Jeralt invited them to the training grounds to spar with him. The couple happily agreed, and Dedue joined, adamant to reprise his role as the king’s vassal. 

Training swords were passed to everyone. Byleth held the grip in his hand and inspected it, his eyes then moving around the room. There were a few others training or sparring, but the room was still mostly quiet. Jeralt stared at his parents, unable to contain his excitement. He was about to witness whether or not the tales were right about the couple’s strength and combat ability. The question fell from his lips before he could filter it. 

“Father, Papa...will you two spar each other?” he said. “I want to see you in action.” 

Byleth smiled at his son, then turned to Dimitri and readied his stance. “How long has it been since we sparred, Dima?” 

“Hmmm...we never really sparred after we married, we were too busy. Perhaps right before the war ended, when we were training to invade Enbarr,” Dimitri replied. He readied himself. 

“Don’t think because I had a child that makes me any easier of an opponent,” Byleth teased. His husband chuckled and swung his sword. It was parried. 

“I would never, beloved.” 

The clanks of swords echoed the room, fast and relentless. They parried at every turn, their knowledge of each other’s fighting styles making it difficult to move past a stalemate. The balance of power pushed and pulled. Jeralt watched in awe at the steady footwork, the strategic movements, and advanced technique. The scholars were not exaggerating in their words when they described Byleth and Dimitri were like no others when it came to combat. He had always tried to imagine what it would like to watch them. Nothing in his head amounted to the real thing. Dedue crossed his arms with a soft smile. 

“They fight as they always have,” he said to Jeralt. “I am so honored to witness this again.”

The heavy sparring gathered the attention of the others in the room. They mumbled among themselves, in awe at what they were seeing. Jeralt bit his lip. It was still hard to believe the two before him were his parents. 

Byleth got the upperhand, and was able to find an opening in Dimitri’s defenses. He swiped along his side, an imaginary cut from waist to chest. The blow, though fake, caused Dimitri to drop his sword in defeat. Byleth smiled in triumph and grabbed his husband’s fur cloak to pull him closer. 

“I win, Your Majesty,” he whispered. 

A bright blush formed on Dimitri’s cheeks at Byleth’s playful tone. He swallowed and turned away. Jeralt walked up to them, his eyes wide. 

“That was unbelievable,” he said. “I’ve never seen such technique.” 

A hand cupped Jeralt’s shoulder as Byleth guided him to his spot. They switched places, and he stood next to Dedue. He nodded with another smile. “Spar with your papa.” 

It was something Jeralt had always dreamed of doing, yet when the moment came, he hesitated. He stared into Dimitri’s hopeful gaze and slight smile. There were many apprehensions. The legends of the boar prince that could crush men’s skulls with his fingertips came to mind, along with the account of Gronder field brutality. Of course Byleth could keep up with such strength, he was just as strong. Jeralt knew he was physically stronger than most, but his skill wasn’t comparable to them. Now that there were people watching, he grew nervous. Most of all, he worried about letting down his parents by underperforming. 

“I admit, I’m nervous to spar you, Papa,” he said. “My skill is nowhere near your level.” 

Dimitri shook his head. “It is not about skill, my son. We only want to spend time with you, to get to know you through our mutual interests.” 

“Don’t worry, dear child,” Byleth interjected as he walked up to them. “He won’t hurt you. If he so much as bruises you, I’ll kick him where it hurts. Repeatedly.”

“I honestly have no doubts that he would do that to me.” 

Jeralt chuckled, his nerves easing. He readied his sword. “Alright. I invited you here, after all. I wouldn’t be a good host if I didn’t participate.” 

They raised their swords and began. Jeralt’s footwork was uneasy at first, the nerves of trading parries with his parent for the first time a bit overwhelming. After a minute, he got into his usual rhythm. Even though he kept pace, he was quickly outmatched. Dimirti beckoned them to start over, and they began anew. Byleth watched from the side, his fingers on his chin in thought. 

“His technique and strength are incredible,” he mused. “It’s Dimitri’s power that he inherited.”

“Yes, it is,” Dedue replied. “He could lift large rocks and carry them at around age eleven or twelve.”

“His movements are smooth and methodical. Almost...mechanical. He’s lacking a certain something.”

“I see the same. I believe it is a simple case of lacking real-world battle experience.” 

Byleth’s brows lifted in surprise. “I see. So he’s never touched a battlefield, not even a fray with bandits?” 

“No. As a guard, he’s gotten into one on one fights with city thieves, but never anything akin to an actual battle. There are some things you can only learn in such an environment.” 

“I agree. I can’t fault him for lacking that hardened experience.” Byleth nodded. “I’m actually relieved to hear he’s never been in a skirmish. As a parent, that makes me...happy.” 

Dedue nodded with a smile. “Of course. That is completely understandable.” 

“I yield!” Jeralt exclaimed, hands on his knees. He huffed, trying to catch his breath. “Papa, I can’t keep up with you.”

The sparring halted. Dimitri smiled, clear pride in his expression as he pat his son on the shoulder. “You are quite skilled, Jeralt. I am impressed with your technique and footwork.” 

“You’re just saying that because I’m your son.” 

“No, not at all. If I see something I think you should improve on, I will of course tell you. However, I really only wanted to spar with you to spend time with you, not criticise your skill level. If you should wish to be taught by your father and I, we will watch you with the intention to critique.” 

Jeralt stood, surprised at the prospect. “Really? You would...do that?” 

“Of course,” Byleth interjected, a hand on Jeralt’s shoulder. “It was always our intention to teach you everything we know.” 

“I wouldn’t want to burden you.” 

“It’s no burden. We _want_ to teach you. I was a professor once, passing on knowledge is something I enjoy. I loved my students, but of course I would want to make my son a student of mine in every facet of life. I’m sorry I never got the chance to do so when you were growing up. I hope there are still things of value that we can pass on to you.” 

“There is much you could teach me. I would be honored to hone whatever knowledge you have to give.” 

Dimitri smiled. “Of course. When we have time, we will share everything we know with you.”

“Thank you,” Jeralt said with a bow. 

“You don’t have to bow to us so much, child,” Byleth interjected. “We’re family.” 

“I see. I was nervous, I mean no disrespect-” 

The conversation halted when Byleth cupped Jeralt’s cheeks. They stared, and the lurid, supernatural irises mirrored each other. For the first time, Jeralt could delve into the eyes that gifted his own, falling deep within what lie underneath. They contained a certain edge: crested cliffs crumbling into a chasm between sanctity and ashen stoicism. Underneath parental affection there was pain, frustration, and guilt. Jeralt could sense it as gentle hands held his face.

“You bring me great pride, Jeralt,” Byleth said. He pulled the hands away. “I see we were right to name you after my father.” 

The sentiment took Jeralt off-guard. How his parents could express pride in him, after they had only met a few days prior, was hard to grasp. They were in the beginning steps of being a family in the complex situation they were within. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were conflating pride with the shock of seeing their son grown. Jeralt assumed so. There was nothing special about him but his blood. Nothing more than a guard for the town, he held no candle to the legendary royalty of old. 

He had always held his parents in such high esteem that it crushed him. It was something he wasn’t honest about, not to anyone but himself. “I see. Was it always your intention to name me after him?” he asked. 

“No,” Dimitri replied. “We had discussed many different names, one being Lambert after my father, another Loog, and a few others. When I held you after you were born, Jeralt came to mind. So, I suggested that we name you after him.” 

“Lambert, King of Faerghus, and Jeralt the Blade Breaker, famed Knight of Seiros…” Jeralt mused aloud, inferiority creeping in. “Those were my grandfathers…” 

“Yes, they were. We can tell you more about them sometime if you are interested.” 

“Oh, sure.” He nodded, brows furrowed. It was pushed aside and hidden with a smile. “Perhaps we should get lunch before meeting my uncle?” 

“That sounds nice. We love sharing meals with you, my son.” 

Jeralt flushed and led them to the dining hall. The affection and love from both parents was an avalanche that blind-sided him. Though not unwelcome, it was overwhelming. It would be difficult for him to adjust to the sudden change, and everything that would follow. 

**-0-**

The labyrinth of passages underneath the structure of Garreg Mach leaked with old water and littered with moss. Byleth’s boots splashed through puddles as torchlight lit the corridors. He followed Seteth to the clandestine spot where Rhea was resting, waiting to be brought back to the world. Jeralt, Dimitri, and Dedue followed, each carrying torches. 

The narrow passageways spread into a wide room, coveted by a lack of light. Seteth turned to Byleth and nodded. “She is in this room. There are sconces on the walls that can be lit,” he said. 

The first sconce was located by Jeralt’s torch and lit. Byleth walked to him and extended his gloved hand, manipulating the torch’s flame with magic. With a wave, the flames flickered and danced from sconce to sconce. The light skipped around the room in a waltz, and the four walls illuminated. Jeralt stood in awe, the torch fire in his hand gone. 

“How did you do that, Father?” he asked. 

Byleth smiled. “It’s a combination of wind magic and fire magic. A fire manipulation technique coupled with a basic wind gust spell will allow flames to scatter easier.”

“I see. I’ve never thought to combine elements like that.” 

“It’s advanced magical study, but not difficult to implement. I shall teach you sometime.” 

“Thank you…”

With a reassuring nod, Byleth turned away. In the middle of the room rested a regal, stone sarcophagus, the rest of the room empty. Seteth was already inspecting it, pushing the edges to lift the lid. Byleth joined him, and the rest of the group lingered at the entrance. The stone tumbled to the ground, and rocked the floors as dust piled into the air. Despite the noise, the slumbering woman within remained unchanging. Byleth leaned in to get a better look. 

Peaceful and serene, Rhea rested. Her gown, a simple white unaffected by time was a star bright in the dim candlelight. Hair cascaded down either side of her face and to her waist in straight, untangled locks. Frozen in the transience, she was just as Byleth remembered. He studied her features, shocked at coming face-to-face with her once again. 

“How might I wake her?” he asked. 

“The Awakening Spell of Flames. You’re familiar aren’t you?” Seteth replied. 

“Yes. The spell of unbinding stasis, a mixture of flame and healing magic. Often used on sleeping saints. I used to practice it out of intrigue and leisure. I never thought I would use it outside of that.” 

“This room has always been used for such a thing. Deep rest allows Nabateans to heal over long periods of time. The sconces on the wall will allow you to culminate the flames needed, hence their meticulous placement.” 

“I see. Give a moment to gather myself, and I will wake her.” 

A wide girth between the group and Byleth was created as Seteth stepped to Jeralt’s side. Byleth grounded his breathing to hone his magic better, then began to recall the spell. White healing magic gathered in his left hand, a ball of luminescent light that was cast above the middle of the sarcophagus. With his right, he gathered flames from the far wall, calling them hither. The flames whirled around the light at his command, and melded into it. A pale yellow that of the noon sun was created. Byleth cradled it in his hands, then dropped it. It floated down into Rhea’s chest. 

Eyes opened slowly, Byleth watching intently. An exhale and a soft greeted him as Rhea stared upward, still lost in a daze of elongated slumber. He cupped her shoulder and waited. 

_“...Mother,”_ she mumbled with great affection. 

“Rhea,” Byleth said, his voice light. “It’s Byleth. I have returned.” 

Her eyes dilated further, but still held a hint of drowsiness. She cupped his cheek. “Byleth, my dear child. Are we together again...in the stars?” 

“No, we are together again in Fódlan. You were put into a deep sleep. Do you remember?” 

It was quiet. With Byleth’s help, she sat up in her resting place. She made eye-contact with Seteth, and her face reflected that things had clicked into place. “Yes, I remember. But, you were gone. How--” 

“The power of Sothis saved Dimitri and I, but it came at a cost. It’s been twenty years since our disappearance, and we’ve only just returned.” 

“Oh my…” she whispered. She clamored to exit the sarcophagus, and was able to with Seteth and Byleth’s help. Her eyes studied the room. “You came back for me.” 

“Of course. When I learned of your location, I came to wake you. Seteth and I both agreed the time had come.” 

“How long have you been roaming the land since your awakening?” 

“Less than a week.” 

The two embraced. Rhea’s fingers tangled in his hair, then cupped his cheek as they pulled away. “To hold you again, dear child, it is a joy I long prayed for. The Goddess has blessed us.” 

Byleth smiled and nodded. “Yes, she has. I reunited with you and my son after so many years.” 

“Oh, is that him?” Rhea asked, locking eyes with Jeralt. “My, he has grown.” 

“More proper reunions are in order. First, let us get you somewhere you can rest and recover from your statis.” 

“Of course.” Rhea nodded and held his forearm for support. “Let us return to the monastery.” 

The passageways were passed through once again. Byleth was relieved to be able to see Rhea again, to have her in his life. She was the closest thing to a mother he knew, and they had come to lean on each other much over the years. To have her near again, to have his family, it was a blessing given the circumstances. Through whatever lie ahead, they would carve a path together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all comments and kudos! I really appreciate it very much.


	24. The Star Terrace

The star terrace was nostalgic in its freezing stillness. It had once been Byleth’s as the archbishop, now Seteth’s as the noble leading the city. It was surreal for the royal couple to step onto it again in a vastly different land. Byleth stood in between Jeralt and Dimitri after helping Seteth tend to Rhea. The stars glistened as Byleth gazed with a reminiscent, yet pensive smile. He folded his arms in front of him and kept his head skyward. 

“This terrace is where I told your papa we were going to have a child of our own,” Byleth mused. “Do you remember, Dimitri?” 

“Of course,” Dimitri replied with a smile. “How could I forget such a momentous occasion?” 

“That day seems not so long ago. How time flies when you’re...sleeping…” 

“So my uncle’s quarters down the hall, they used to be yours, Father?” Jeralt interjected, his tone inquisitive. 

“Yes, this floor was for the archbishop of the church. First Rhea, then me. You and I, we spent many nights in that room together as I rocked you to sleep. I wanted you to be born here, but it didn’t go as planned.” 

“I know there was an assassination attempt against you right before I was born. Those that tried to kill you, and me to an extent, they...rule over this continent.” 

Byleth frowned and sighed, sorrow in his heart. “I know. Yet, too much time has passed for me to know what to do about it. I executed the one that tried to kill us. She knew you existed. Destroying her wasn’t enough, she was just a cog in the machine that stole us from you.” 

“Executed…” Jeralt echoed. He recalled an entry in his father’s journal that told of such a thing, but it didn’t go into detail. The vagueness implied it was done at his command, and the thought was eerie. It was hard to imagine his parents slaying on the battlefield or commanding the deaths of others. “So you ordered that person to be killed?” 

“No.” The former archbishop paused. He glanced at his husband, then elected to tell the truth. “The one and only execution carried out under my rule of the church was done by my hand.” 

“What? You...executed someone?” 

Dread and pain weaved into Byleth’s eyes and furrowed brows. “Jeralt, my dear son...you must have read such accounts in books and documents, accounts of-- _how efficiently_ Dimitri and I could kill.” 

Jeralt hesitated before nodding. “Yes. Of course you killed during your mercenary days, and during the war, but after that…”

“That woman is the only person I killed as the archbishop. I won’t lie, not to you. I executed her after you were born, because she had tried to kill you and I while I was still expecting you. She wanted to get rid of both of us at once.” 

“They always wanted me dead, even before my birth?” 

“Yes. That’s why we were so adamant on keeping your existence a secret. Given the nature of my marriage, and myself, no one ever suspected a thing. Even today, I’m sure if they found out who your parents are, they would target you.” Byleth exhaled, guilt in his core. “I’m sorry, Jeralt. It was never my intention to saddle you with such a thing.” 

Dimitri rubbed Byleth’s shoulder, pained at seeing the upset in his eyes. “Your blood is very powerful, my son,” he interjected. “We had every intention of raising you together, of shielding you from harm. We didn’t want your blood to burden you. Though, I suppose it was a bit naive of us. Your birth marked your destiny, which was to take the throne of Faerghus after my time. That destiny was shredded.” 

“Me? A king?” Jeralt bit his lip. “I can hardly imagine it. I’m just a guard of the town”

“If I could give you what you deserve, I would,” Byleth said. “ _My son_ is the rightful heir of this land, the land of the one, true king: _Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd_. Even so, shouting it from the rooftops won’t make it so.” 

“I don’t deserve to be a king.” 

Dimitri shook his head. “I understand why you say that. You were never raised in preparation for such a thing. Someone stole my throne, stole _your_ throne, and gave it to another. Not only that, they stole your childhood from us, stole our opportunity to be your parents. It angers me, but I have not the faintest idea of what to do about it.” 

“I know we lost a lot of time, but…” Jeralt paused and bit his lip. “You have the chance to be my parents now. I--I would appreciate that greatly.” 

“We shall always be your parents. Whether or not we are _good_ parents, well, that remains to be seen. Going from caring for an infant to having a grown son, it is not easy. However, I won’t let that excuse me from being the best parent I can for you. Whatever that may mean, I cannot know for certain, but...I think I speak for your father and I both when I say you are everything to us. Without you, we would be lost.” 

It was silent. At a loss for words, Jeralt star-gazed. His heart thumped, many emotions swelling at once. Byleth glanced at him, and their eyes locked, the tint shining through the darkness. “Jeralt, you are not obligated to feel any sort of way towards us,” he said. “We do love you, and always will. But, if for some reason, should you not wish to spend your time with us, then...that is something we must respect. You are grown, and you never knew us.” 

“But I _have_ known you, Father. I always have,” Jeralt argued, his voice insistent but soft. “I got to know you through your journals and your work. How better to get to know someone than through their thoughts?” 

“Yes, perhaps, but…” 

“No. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I don’t want you to entertain these thoughts. You have spoken to me for a long while now. In your words, I felt your love and your pain. For instance, your last entry, where you wrote about sending me away. It was full of so much sorrow and frustration. I could tell by your handwriting you were suffering. It was sloppy, and the tone was frazzled. The ink was smeared in some spots, as if droplets were spilled on it. You wrote how you were all alone on your terrace, _this_ terrace. No child, no husband, and an unseen force coming for your throat. It was the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever read. 

“All those years ago, you made the decision for me to leave. Now I’m making the decision to stay. I won’t leave you again, Father.”

Tears filled Byleth’s eyes and dripped onto his cloak. He sniffled and wiped his eyes with his glove. “I don’t understand, Jeralt,” he said, his words weak. “You’re not obligated to care just because we showed up out of the blue.”

“Perhaps not, but I’m not doing this out of obligation. Neither are you. There is part of you that wants to make up for lost time, but you’re here because you love me. And I’m here because...I love you.” 

It was silent again, Byleth’s soft cries filling the gaps. Dimitri furrowed his brow as he studied his small family, huddled close in the cold, talking the stars away. The young man before him was more caring and welcoming than he ever expected him to be. To know such a person was his son was difficult to grasp. He didn’t feel as though he deserved it after being gone for so long. 

“Jeralt, your kindness, your willingness to so easily let us into your life, and the sincerity is overwhelming. Finding you was the first thing we thought of when we woke. Even when we found it had been twenty years, that sentiment never faded. For you to accept that, to give us the chance to be something to you, there are no words for what it means to us. Thank you.” 

“Well...I love you too, Papa…” Jeralt mumbled. “Why wouldn’t I let you in? I’ve spent my whole life idolizing both of you, wishing I could...be at your side.” 

Byleth shook his head, brows narrow and eyes irritated with tears.“The heinous things those fiends did, it cannot stand. I rose an army of resistance before, and I’ll do it again. It goes beyond us. Those javelins of light, I’m sure they killed hundreds.” 

“Yes, they did. Whole villages were wiped from existence. The scholars have written extensively about it,” Jeralt replied. He startled after pausing a moment. “Wait...Father, did you just--are you saying--that you’ll wage _war_ against the Church of Zahras!?” 

“I don’t care what they call themselves. I will find them and I will kill them.” 

Intimidation struck Jeralt’s core, and he stiffened. “Father, how would you…? I mean--I would love to see the church destroyed. They’re tyrants that over tax the people, that ban the worship of the goddess. Those who follow Sothis are imprisoned or executed. I just don’t know how you would fight against that.” 

“We are soldiers and warriors at heart, Jeralt,” Dimitri interjected. “I led the kingdom’s army as we liberated Fhirdiad, and I led them as we captured Enbarr. I killed the Emperor with my own lance after infiltrating her palace. Byleth was at my side as one of my top advisors and generals. We know how to gather like-minded people, raise morale, and strategize tactics.” 

“Say the church gets dismantled tomorrow. What would happen after that?” 

“Well, if it were up to us, we would reinstate the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Church of Seiros, then work to bring the worship of the goddess back to the people.” 

Byleth nodded. “All of this is just conjecture now. Once Rhea wakes, we’ll speak with her and Seteth. We’ll ask them if it’s worth picking up arms to change the governing force of this land.” 

“And, of course, we would want you to have a say in that as well,” Dimitri added. “You’ve lived under this rule for your whole life. So, before we would make such a drastic decision, we would want to know what your thoughts are on the subject.” 

“You’re asking me to tell you whether or not I think you should wage war against the Church of Zahras, against... _Those Who Slither in the Dark?”_ Jeralt whispered, incredulous at the idea. 

“Yes. Think about it, and don’t be afraid to give us an honest answer,” Byleth replied. “I am one with Sothis, I wield the power of the progenitor god. If anyone is going to bring Sothis back to this land, it will be me.” 

“You passed your blood along to me. Does that mean...there is a piece of Sothis within me also?” 

“You inherited some of her power, yes. She lives within my soul and blood. I passed part of her very essence to you. I am a vessel for her, and because of that, we are forever intertwined. My hair and eye color changed when we fused, they weren't always this tint. How I appear now is because of Sothis. Those eyes that you have, they are because of her.”

“I always knew of your true nature, but hearing it from you makes it a bit more shocking, I suppose…” 

Byleth frowned and shook his head. He wrapped Jeralt in an embrace. “I know we’re loading you with a lot of information at once,” he said into his ear. “Please, go home and get some rest. We’ll discuss these things some more in the morning. Seteth gave us a room here, don’t worry about us.” 

“Alright. Thank you, Father. I'll be back here in the morning.” 

They pulled away. Jeralt moved to Dimitri and gave him a quick embrace before bowing and taking his leave. It was quiet as the couple gazed at the falling stars and the shifts in constellations. After a bit of soft coaxing, Dimitri was able to get his husband settled down enough to sleep in their new room on the third floor. After he was sure he was asleep, he slipped away, and walked through the dark paths of Garreg Mach. 

**-0-**

The knock on the door was louder than Dimitri intended, and he winced. Despite attempting a soft sound, given his brute strength, it was never so. As he waited, he wondered how he managed to care for his son as a newborn without hurting him. The surroundings were nostalgic and familiar, yet foreign in an uncomfortable way. The musings stopped when the door opened. 

“Papa...is everything okay?” Jeralt asked, still dressed in his guard uniform. 

Dimitri nodded as he was welcomed in. “Yes, your father is asleep. Am I disturbing you? If so, I will come back later.” 

“Not at all. I just finished eating a little. Is there something you need to speak with me about?”

“I just wanted to ask a favor.” Dimitri paused, a hand behind his head. His face flushed. “Would you mind if I took a look at your father’s journal? I know he let you keep it, and I should probably ask him if I can, but...this situation is quite complex.” 

“Yes, I have it. Is there something wrong?” 

“I am worried about him. He is not often open about everything he is feeling. I was hoping if I took a look at what he has written, I might be able to help him better. And, I admit, I am curious to know what you are referring to. It seems I am the only one that has no idea what is written in that book.” 

The journal was pulled from the shelf. Jeralt handed it over, then sat at the desk, chair turned to face Dimitri. “I understand. If I’ve read everything, then surely he won’t mind if you do. There isn’t anything written there that would suggest he feels anything for you other than love.” 

Dimitri blushed, cheeks accentuated by the candlelight. He chuckled nervously and opened the book. “Our secret, okay? Don’t tell your father.” 

“Of course,” Jeralt replied with a laugh. 

The journal opened and flipped through random entries as Dimitri read them:

_12th Day of the Garland Moon, 1186,_

_I’m pregnant. I can’t believe it. Rhea confirmed my suspicions earlier today, and the reality still has not sunk in. The first morning I woke with an aching back and stomach last week, I suspected something was amiss. Then, there was no bleeding this week, and I started to panic. I knew, yet didn’t want to admit I’ve had my suspicions for a while. Dimitri isn’t here. Our duties call, and I have no say in the matter. But as time wears on, I struggle with him being away more and more. I never needed anyone before, yet that is clearly not the case now. This was unplanned, but I loathe to say it was an accident. I’ve wanted to have Dimitri’s child for a while now. I’ve just been too afraid. Perhaps the goddess knew that._

The blush on Dimitri’s face deepened. He always assumed any child of theirs would be deeply loved and wanted, but Byleth’s words were more intense than he anticipated. Never had he mentioned such thoughts aloud. He kept reading. 

_18th Day of the Wyvern Moon, 1186,_

_Dimitri will be at the monastery by the end of the week. Good. I’ve really wanted to hurl choice words at him for leaving me to carry our child alone. Rhea and Seteth help with what they can, but they aren’t my husband. There are things only a husband can do, and those are things I need too. I know our duties call, and he’s tending to our kingdom, but I want to be selfish and keep him for myself. My moods shift like storms--I get annoyed at him for being away, and I feel guilty for it, because I know he has no say in the matter. I know this after the storms pass. It’s all a bit silly. My real frustration is just missing him. I want us to bond with our child together._

\--

_14th Day of the Ethereal Moon, 1186,_

_I am so heavy with child. The birth should be any time now. I stay in bed most of the day, but after a while, my legs cramp terribly. Manuela keeps an eye on me, visiting a few times a day. Everything is aching, it’s a bit miserable to be truthful. Dimitri loves to feel the child kick, and I do too. It makes him smile, and he leaves his hand on my womb to see how many he can count. He’s going to be a wonderful father, I await seeing him hold our child for the first time. I’m going to ask him to take a walk with me later today. Hopefully the child will be born soon. We love the little one so much already._

_Later on the 14th Day of the Ethereal Moon, 1186,_

_The monastery is in a frenzy over what should have been a simple walk around the garden. There was an assassination attempt against me by Audrina, Edelgard’s child, whom I took into my care. It shocked everyone, and the knife that should have gone into the back of my thigh had lethal poison on the tip. Dimitri saved us, saved our child and I, from death. We’re preparing to leave the monastery for Fhirdiad in the morning. There’s clearly rats in the walls here at Garreg Mach._

_Dimitri left to get something for me to eat, though I told him I’m not hungry. I’m having slight pains in my abdomen. They don’t feel the same as other slight pains I’ve had. I’m fearful the strain of today's events have stressed my body. I think labor will start soon, if it hasn’t already. I hope it doesn’t happen during the carriage ride, but if it does...that’s where my child will be born. I wanted a nice birth at the monastery with Dimitri at my side. I won’t get such a privilege._

The former king paused from reading. It was surprising to read Byleth anticipated what happened in the carriage ride before they left. Dimitri understood why Byleth refused to say anything, but it still puzzled him. Why didn’t he say something? They could’ve figured something out, kept him comfortable and safe somewhere else. The agony of the carriage ride didn’t have to happen, but Byleth _let_ it happen by not speaking. All Dimitri wanted was Byleth to be more open with his thoughts. He suffered too much for the sake of everyone else. The book was flipped to the very last entry:

_18th Day of the Lone Moon, 1187,_

_Everyone is gone. Jeralt is gone. Dimitri is gone. I’m alone on my terrace._

_I can’t keep this up. I can’t keep acting like I’m not in pain. Yet, I will. I will because I’ve told the citizens of Garreg Mach to flee for their lives, I’ve promised them I will fight to keep their homes safe while they’re away. I promised those that follow the goddess to lead them. I am the archbishop before all else._

_I sent my son away. He smiled at me before I shut the carriage door. Why? Why, Jeralt? Don’t smile at me. I failed you. I can’t be a good father and a good archbishop at the same time. To take care of him like I want, I’d have to abandon my post, to abandon my post, I abandon the kingdom my husband and I swore to serve._

_There’s this feeling in my bones that I won’t see my son again. I can’t tell Dimitri, he won’t like hearing me say that. I don’t know how or why, but I sense it. If that’s the case, then I’ve never been a good father to my son and I never will be._

_He could’ve died days before he was born, and it’s my fault. I should’ve stayed in bed, but I was uncomfortable. It was selfish. I hate myself. Then the carriage ride. Perhaps he would’ve opened his eyes sooner if my body hadn’t been under so much stress. I put Dimitri through so much pain, thinking his child was dead. Even now, I can’t feed my child enough on my own. I try and try, but I can’t. Why can’t I do something so simple? It’s another of my many failures._

_I am suffering. I deserve it. I am so full of vengeance toward those fiends, those who are trying to take everything away from us, from the kingdom. I want to kill them all so they never return, no matter how many hundreds or thousands there are. Even so, it won’t atone for everything I can’t give my own son. Dimitri, why do you love me? I don’t understand. He could have chosen anyone to bear his child. Yet, he chose this failure right here._

_They used to call Dimitri a boar. He’s not one anymore. But am I?_

The book closed. Dimitri couldn’t bear to read further. It was agonizing to witness the pain and self deprecation of the one he loved the most. Byleth was no more a failure than Dimitri was. Yet, his thoughts battered him with such vile words. Dimitri handed the journal back and exhaled long and steady. 

“This is quite painful to read, to be honest…” he mumbled. 

“Was he just frustrated? Or fearful?” Jeralt asked. 

“Perhaps the scholars mentioned this, but Byleth is known for being a stoic. It was only after we married that he began to show his emotions more openly on a consistent basis around me. Over the years, he has learned how to _feel_. I am glad for it, yet, I think his emotions are quite intense. It pains him.” 

“Feeling has positive sides, though. Surely he feels more than sorrow.” 

“Of course. He smiled so much when he was expecting you. And after you were born, the joy in his eyes when he looked at you, it was mesmerizing.” Dimitri shook his head. “I think he has anger buried deep within him. He wants to pick up a weapon and fight, to exercise vengeance for everything that we lost.” 

Jeralt frowned. He kicked the floor with the heel of his boot. “This land has lived under subjugation for many years. I often wondered what Faerghus was like, a land that held more opportunity than this one. Uncle does what he can, but he only has so much power when the church crushes everyone under its thumb.” 

“We shall discuss our options tomorrow. Lady Rhea has been asleep for many years also. If you do not mind, will you explain to us more about this land?” 

“Of course.” Jeralt nodded, then paused. He bit his lip. “About Father...is there anything I can do for him? Or for you, for that matter. I want to get to know both of you more.” 

Dimitri smiled. “Sharing meals, training, and talking with you are enough. There is no need to trouble yourself with anything complex. However, I have sought you out to speak with you alone a few times now. You have not yet spent any time alone with your father, have you?” 

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I have.” 

“This room was his all the way up until the war ended. I never visited his room as a student, but during the war, he’d often invite me to tea here. We would sometimes talk the night away on free evenings. If you want to surprise him in a nice way, you could always set up tea here and invite him. He would love to spend time with you that way, just as him and I once did. I can spend some time with Dedue and leave you two be for a while.”

“That sounds like a great time. I’ll get some tea and sweets and invite him.” 

“Wonderful. It will lift his spirits. Thank you, my son.” 

Jeralt shrugged with a smile. “No need to thank me.” 

After a few more minutes of idle chatting, Dimitri took his leave. Jeralt sat in the dark after he blew the candle out. Something was uneasy in his bones. Change was coming swift and steady. He didn’t know what it would mean for him, given the enormous changes he had already been through the past week. All he could do was steel himself for it. 


	25. Legends Over Tea

The table in the corner of Jeralt’s room had never been used for anything other than a collection of books. The dawn had greeted said books with their new home on the windowsill as the table was set for tea. With only one chair, Jeralt had elected to point his side toward the bed, a place set for his father across from him. Then came the food bought from the bakery around the corner, where the old officer’s academy had been.

Jeralt had never been the best at entertaining guests. He never had any. 

The shock on Byleth’s face when he was asked, and when entered his old bedroom to a familiar scene, was worth the effort. “This is just like the old days. Dimitri and I...we used to talk for hours over tea,” he mused. 

“Well, Papa mentioned you like tea, so I thought...this would be okay?” Jeralt said, his tone nervous. 

“It’s more than okay, it’s wonderful. Thank you.” He took a seat in the chair, and Jeralt sat across from him. “When did your papa mention that? I don’t recall hearing him say it.” 

“Uh...it was in the corridors underneath Garreg Mach!” Jeralt fibbed, desperate to keep Dimitri’s secret. “When you walked ahead a little with Uncle, Papa and I fell into conversation.”

The answer was accepted, much to Jeralt’s relief. “Oh, I see. I’m so happy to see you two bond.” 

“I’ve been able to speak with him one-on-one a few times now. Yet, I haven’t been able to do the same with you. I thought this would be a good opportunity to do that.” 

“This is. I’m so happy to spend time with you. Thank you, my child.” 

“Of course.” Jeralt poured them both fresh tea. “May I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” Byleth nodded, and sipped tea. 

“Is it true that Papa...could crush a man’s skull with his bare hands? There’s accounts of it in history books, but scholars argue over whether it’s an exaggeration or not. I’ve been too intimidated to ask him.” 

The teacup was set down as Byleth sighed. “Yes, it’s true. I’ve seen him do that with my own eyes. The first time was when he was a student, when Edelgard invaded the Holy Tomb as the Flame Emperor.” 

“I see. He’s so... _gentle_ around me. I have a hard time imagining such brutality.” 

“He loves you dearly. But, don’t be mistaken, he was, and can be, a brutal man. I’m sure most of what you’ve read about him, and me to an extent, is true.” 

Jeralt pawed at a cookie on a plate between them and munched on it. He shrugged. “There have been books written that speak of legends surrounding the royal couple of Faerghus. There were rumors circulating of an heir. Some say Papa had a mistress. Others say that you created a child with your dark magic abilities. There are even a few that theorize Papa had illegitimate children while living as a vagrant during the war period.” 

“Those are all false, of course,” Byleth said with a chuckle. “I find all this conjecture around us intriguing. No one ever guessed I could give birth naturally?” 

“No. Uncle has always found the legends about you two amusing. There’s another legend that says Papa was an extraordinary dancer, but was too embarrassed to dance in front of anyone, so hid his talent.” 

“I bet that came from him winning the White Heron Cup during his academy days.” 

“He won a dancing competition? So he _can_ dance!” 

“Are there any legends about me?” 

Jeralt paused and thought about it while indulging another cookie. “Legends say you could slay entire armies with the Sword of the Creator. People claim that you cut through flames at Gronder Field and seized a burning ballista, then shot enemies with it until it burned to ash.” 

“It is true that I could cut through enemies easily with the Sword of the Creator. However, I never seized a burning ballista. The ballista at the center _was_ set ablaze by Edelgard, though.”

“I see. There’s another legend that says you and Papa had an affair as teacher and student. There are claims that you both made plans to elope after his graduation during a getaway to the Goddess Tower. And that you used it as a frequent spot to rendez-vous as lovers.”

Byleth choked on tea, his face red. He bit a cookie to settle himself. “That is not true in the slightest.” 

“Reading your journal entry about how he proposed to you after the war, it didn’t seem like it. It’s still amusing nonetheless.” Jeralt laughed and pointed to his bookshelf. “I’ve spent the years collecting all the texts I could find about my parents. I only buy the nonfiction, though. I don’t need to read fictional stories about you and Papa.” 

“Fictional stories?” 

“Yes. You two are legendary. Even the Church of Zahras couldn’t tame your tales. There are many chivalrous, romance-style books out there featuring you two as the main characters. Uncle always called them ridiculous and laughed them off. I never bought them. It seems too bizarre to know people write such things about my parents. I didn’t want it to color my view of who you really were.” 

It was quiet as Byleth’s body burned with embarrassment. He itched to know what those books were about. He coughed, cheeks still red, and changed the subject. “I...see. How about you tell me about yourself, my child. We’ve talked about your papa and I enough for now.”

Jeralt furrowed his brows. “Oh. I wouldn’t know where to begin.” 

“Just tell me about your life now. You’re a guard, you help Seteth with internal affairs of the town, you love to train, fish, and eat sweets. What else?” 

“You sure do remember a lot, Father. I’m sure I only mentioned some of those things once.” 

“Of course.” Byleth smiled. “You’re my son. I want to know everything I can about you.”

“Well, I like to read about tactics also. I’ve always been interested in being a tactician, but with no force to oppose the church, it’s just a pastime.” 

“I see. Do you play through mock scenarios also?” 

Jeralt stood and walked to his desk. He pulled a journal from a stack and handed it to his father. “Yes. I keep them all in notebooks. I often use the battles from the war with the Empire to create new scenarios.” 

The pages of the journal were flipped through. “Excellent work, Jeralt. Your tactics are very advanced.” 

“O-Oh...you’re just saying that because I’m your son.” 

“No,” Byleth said, shaking his head. “I was a mercenary and a war veteran. Trust me when I say the work in this journal is quite precise.” 

“Thank you, Father. I appreciate it.” 

“Of course. I have something to ask you.” 

“What is it?” 

It was silent as the conversation lulled. Byleth finished drinking the last of his brew and gazed to the side, his expression nervous. “Would you…--Would it be alright I recall my old lectures with you? I want to teach you all I know. It’s selfish of me, you’re skilled in your own right. I’m a professor at heart and...I always hoped my son would be my greatest student.” 

Jeralt nodded with a slight smile. “Please, Father. Teach me as you once did your students. Teach me everything. I heard from Dedue that you used to hold seminars on Jeralt Eisner’s mercenary fighting style. Will you...start there?” 

“Oh, I had forgotten about that. I did teach my father’s fighting style. With you as his namesake, I will gladly pass that on to you.” 

“I appreciate that, Father.” 

Before their conversation could continue, there was a knock on the door. Jeralt rose and opened it, Dimitri on the other side with Dedue. They both waved, Dimitri with a smile at seeing father and son enjoying tea together. 

“I ran into Seteth. He says we can hold a meeting in about thirty minutes. Rhea is awake and well-rested, and her strength has returned,” he said. 

Byleth stood with a nod. “We’ll be on our way, then. Let’s go together."

**-0-**

The group gathered on the Star Terrace, high above the hustle and bustle, so that no one would hear what they spoke of. The peace greeted as usual, but within the small gathering a petite woman broke the calm. She pounced Byleth without a thought, happy tears in her eyes. Byleth stumbled back and returned the embrace. 

“Professor!” Flayn exclaimed. “I have missed you so. We search and searched. Upon my return to Garreg Mach today after travels, Brother told me everything.” 

“I’ve missed you too, Flayn. I heard you spent the years looking after my son. Thank you,” Byleth replied with a smile. She pulled away with a chuckle. 

“Of course. But Brother did the looking after.”

Seteth sighed with an amused smile, hands behind his back. “Ah, yes. Jeralt and Flayn got themselves into many antics over the years.” 

Byleth raised his brows in surprise. “Antics?” 

“Stories for another time,” Flayn interjected. She moved to Dimitri, and got buried in his cloak. “Dimitri! I missed you as well.” 

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Flayn,” Dimitri said as he untangled her from his clothing. 

The doors opened, and Rhea soon joined the group. Her eyes were livelier than before, but still drained of energy. She wore a simple white dress and gold necklace, her hand falling on Byleth’s shoulder as she smiled. They exchanged nods, and she took her place beside him. The group gathered in a small circle in between the two ponds, the sunlight directly overhead. 

“Seteth, this Church of Zahras...are they committing atrocities against followers of Sothis?” Byleth asked, launching into the meeting with a single question. 

“Yes.” Seteth sighed, his face grim. “I have been doing what I can to shield the followers of the goddess. Abyss is still hidden from the world. One of the reasons I returned to Garreg Mach was to keep an eye on it. I disguised my intention, cleared the bandits, and advertised it as a bustling town. All the while, I brokered a deal with Abyssian lords. If they would shelter followers of the goddess from persecution, I would shield them and funnel them funds.” 

“Those Who Slither in the Dark are the ones in power now, yes?” 

“Yes. They installed Audrina as Emperor. She is the main figurehead, however, from what I can discern, her power is minimal. Those Who Slither in the Dark are the ones making decisions. My probing has led me to believe they run the continent from deep underground, all the while maintaining the facade that Audrina is running things from the palace in Enbarr.” 

Dimitri crossed his arms. “What happened to Fhirdiad?” 

“Fhirdiad was captured when I was around three or four,” Jeralt interjected. “There was resistance against it, but the houses pushing back were eventually forced to surrender. The main opponents were my uncles Felix and Sylvain.”

“They are still alive!?” 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Dedue added. “There was a short time I took Jeralt to stay with them in Margrave territory while we formed a small group to clear out the bandits at Garreg Mach. Sylvain stayed behind with Jeralt while Felix joined us.” 

“I see. If possible, I would like to get in contact with them.” 

“Of course. I will send word to them immediately.” 

Byleth nodded in agreement. “I’ve been reading, and the region that was once Faerghus is now the Faerghus Dukedom once again. I know Dimitri and I detest the idea, but we’re from another era. I suppose what we’re wondering is...is this land facing enough torment to justify us picking up arms and forming a resistance?” 

“I would say persecution of the Goddess is enough,” Rhea interjected. She frowned. “Even so, we cannot rush blindly into things. Seteth, what is your judgement of the situation?” 

“The way things are now, I cannot continue on this path. As the noble of Garreg Mach, I have been able to shelter religious refugees. They are growing in number, and Abyss cannot handle the influx of newcomers. More so, as the number of refugees grows, the easier it is for Those Who Slither in the Dark to pick up on what I am doing. If they raise a hand here, I do not have the power to stop them.” 

“For whatever it’s worth, you now have Dimitri and I,” Byleth said. “Is it possible to form and train a resistance with those underground, all beneath their noses?” 

“It would be. It would take some time, but those underground have been itching to fight back for years now. I just not have not had the resources to form such an army. Or the leadership for that matter. There are people there that remember you, Dimitri, and Rhea. If you show your faces there, the morale to resist will rise quickly.” 

Rhea nodded. “I am willing and able to fight for the goddess as well. I am more than capable, especially if we spend a few months underground training.”

“So can I. I’ve been wanting to set this continent free from this tyranny for a while now. Perhaps it is fate that Byleth and Dimitri have returned to us at such a time,” Seteth said. 

“Let us get into contact with Felix and Sylvain and see if they would be willing to join us,” Dimitri interjected. “After that...would the best course of action be to go into Abyss and speak with the people there?”

“It would. However, after such a large group of lost heroes show up, the people will rally, and news will likely spread about us. It will likely be taken as rumor at first, but even so, once we leave for the underground, we won’t be able to come back to the surface unless it's to fight.”

“I see. Until then, we will stay unassuming on the surface.” 

Rhea nodded. “We have our course of action. Shall we disperse for the day? We do not want to raise too many suspicions.”

“Yes,” Byleth agreed. “We’ll meet again once we have word from Felix and Sylvain.” 

The group dispersed. Seteth returned to the lower floor to manage internal affairs in anticipation for his leave, Rhea left to rest, and Dimitri dismissed Dedue to go home and tell his wife what was going on. The only people left on the terrace were the former royal family and their son. 

“Jeralt, do you agree with what we have decided?” Dimitri asked. “Please answer us honestly.” 

“Yes, I do. I know not the field of battle, but..if my uncle, and my parents, find that we should raise arms, then I will follow,” Jeralt replied. 

“Once we go to the underground, your life here as you know it is over. You will no longer serve as a guard of the town, and you won’t be able to return to the place you call home,” Byleth added. He cupped Jeralt’s shoulder. “Tell us now if this is not suitable for you.” 

“Father, I don’t need that place. It holds memories for the both of us, sure, but I have you now. I will clear out my things, and pack a few bags for our journey. Where you go, I will follow. As one that also carries the blood of Sothis, I cannot stand by as those who follow her are persecuted.” 

Byleth exhaled and wrapped him in an embrace. “My dear child, thank you.” 

“I don’t have much, mainly books. Honestly, most of those books are about you and Papa. What use do I have of those, now that you’re here? I’ll bring along your journals and my tactic books. That’s all that I can think of that I’ll need.” 

“We only have what’s on our backs. We are ready anytime.” 

Father and son pulled away. Jeralt dug into his pocket and handed over the Blue Lions Brooch that was gifted to Byleth for his birthday. “Here, Father, I forgot to give this back to you. This is the brooch Papa gave you as a student, right?” 

“Keep it, my son,” Dimitri interjected. “The room is yours and has been for a long while.” 

Byleth smiled. “I agree. It’s yours, Jeralt. Consider it an heirloom from us. Go now, and pack your things. Your papa and I will be spending most of our time in our room. If you change your mind, or need us, come by at any time of the day. Shall we meet later on for dinner?” 

Jeralt nodded and bowed. “Of course. See you this evening, Father, Papa.” 

The terrace was left to the couple. Byleth sighed and loosely crossed his arms. A hand cupped his shoulder, giving him warmth in the chilled breeze. “I’m not surprised that this is happening. I’m only surprised it took twenty years,” he said. 

“I agree. Though, I suppose for now, all we can do is relax while we send word to Felix and Sylvain.” Dimitri moved his hand to rub Byleth’s back. “How was tea with your son?” he asked. 

Another smile formed on Byleth’s face. “Wonderful. We were talking about all sorts of things. He told me of legends surrounding us.” 

“Oh? What sort of legends?” 

“There’s legends that say you had illegitimate heirs while living as a vagrant in the slums of Faerghus during the war period.”

“What!?” Dimitri exclaimed, face colored red. “Beloved, that is _not_ true. The first time I--we--you know, on our wedding night.” 

“Yes, I know, my love,” Byleth said with a laugh. “Our first time ever making love was with each other.”

“Heh. Maybe there are legends like that about you, too?” 

“Worse!” Byleth argued, remembering more of his previous conversations with Jeralt. His heart flamed, and he dug into his pocket to ensure a few coins were left there. 

The king’s eye widened with surprise. “What do you mean?” 

“Jeralt told me there are these... _fiction_ books about us. Chivalrous romances. I must go and see what he means for myself! Oh, I can already imagine…” 

“Fiction books? That is not what I expected to hear.”

“There’s a used bookstore where the Golden Deer classroom used to be. Come, I’m buying them _all!_ ”

Hearty laughter filled the terrace as Dimitri followed behind his adamant husband. “Of course.” 

**-0-**

The cozy, small guest room on the third floor of the central building was filled with the crackling of the fire. Byleth warmed next to it, face in a thin paperback with fanciful artwork on the front. Dimitri crunched on an apple across from him, leaning to the side to see his husband’s expression behind the pages. Gasps filled the room. 

“Beloved, what is it now?” Dimitri asked. “You have gasped so many times, and you are still reading the first volume.” 

Byleth shook his head and bit his lip. “I can’t--Dima, I must burn it!” 

The book landed in Dimitri’s grip before it was tossed into the flames. His half-chewed apple dropped into his lap. He opened the novel and began to read through it. He blinked, his eye strain not enough to keep him from gulping down what was on the page. Enthralled by a random scene in a random chapter, he kept reading. Byleth leaned forward. 

“Dimitri, don’t tell you’re engaged with this nonsense,” he said. 

No answer came right away. “We don’t make love this way,” he finally replied. 

“Gah! Don’t read that part!” 

“Why not? It is all fantasy. It is hard to fathom us becoming legendary figures so soon, but it seems that is the case.”

Byleth huffed and crossed his arms. “Just admit you like it.” 

“No. Those that write these things don’t know us as we truly are. And...why do I need a book when I have you? The book doesn't know your body like I do.” 

“You’re making me so flustered I could smack you.” 

Laughter filled the room. The book was set on the table and the apple soon joined it. Dimitri sat in his chair, then put out his arms as a silent invitation. With a sigh, Byleth joined, sitting on his lap. Two arms wrapped around him, his head pressed against the fabric of an eyepatch. It was quiet. 

“That book...isn’t that how you wanted to be?” Dimtri finally asked. 

Byleth furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean...the love making. The anatomy of it, with both of us having the same…” 

The answer didn’t come. Byleth exhaled and stared into the fire, years of his life flowing through the dips and cracks of flames. “Yes,” he admitted. “Why I chose my path was because I wished...I could be like men. _Other_ men. But now…” He paused. “Dimitri, I don’t know what I am anymore. A human? A god? Something in between? Man, woman, something _else?_ I need a label, and I want that to be a man, but...at this point...I don’t even know if I’m truly _alive_. My heart doesn’t beat, and yet I conceived and gave birth. What kind of anomaly can be everything and nothing at once?” 

“I am sorry, but those are not answers I can give you, beloved. All I know is that you are Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd, my closest friend, my ally, my lover, the one who bore my child. That is enough for me.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

“I don’t care if you are unable to fit molds that are built for others. You and I are bound by marriage, and not by political choice. I am in love with you, Byleth. Whatever Byleth is, Byleth is _mine_ to have and hold forever.” 

Tears were swallowed down before they could spill. “Dimitri…” 

Kisses pressed into the skin on Byleth’s face, warm and more than just rogue affection. They deepened, moved to the jawline, and then to the neck. Byleth exhaled, and his parted lips were taken advantage of. He grunted, but didn’t pull away. 

“My love,” Byleth mumbled. He startled as a hand found its way in between his thighs. “I don’t know--” 

The mumbling went unheard. The hand snaked underneath the cloak and stroked cloth. Byleth went limp in his arms. “Dimitri, please…” He tried to speak something more, but it didn’t articulate. 

Before long, they were on the bed, Dimitri hovering overhead. Before he could pull on clothing, Byleth grabbed his hand. “Listen, I'm still wearing that necklace with the charm,” he finally said. “However, I don’t think the magic remains. It likely depleted over the passage of time.” 

Where Byleth expected to get a deflated sigh, he only got a smirk. He stiffened. “Hey! _Don’t smirk._ Our bodies didn’t age! I can still have children. Now is _not_ the time,” he chided. 

“I understand. We can’t do that because of the risk. But, I can still touch you.” 

“I...I suppose.” 

Dimitri chuckled. “If it will make you feel better, my clothing will stay on.” 

“Oh, hush.” 

Another laugh filled the room. Byleth relented and let the former king do what he pleased, reigning over him as if his sovereign. In many ways, he was. Just because the world no longer saw Dimitri as a king didn’t mean Byleth thought the same. Even as things escalated, and a king ended up between his thighs, Byleth stayed quiet. His fingers tangled in Dimitri’s hair as he shifted. 

“I like to hear you, you know,” Dimitri teased. He kissed his husband's inner thighs a few times, one leg strewn over his shoulder. Byleth sighed and tugged on Dimitri’s scalp. 

“Then do something that makes you worthy of it,” he said, his voice witty and just as teasing. 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“Perhaps.” 

With the stakes raised, the sensuality increased. After a minute of teasing from both sides, Dimitri kissed a spot that ignited something deeper within Byleth’s soul. He let slip an exclamation, and huffed a few times as the attention continued. Dimitri lifted his head with a smirk. He leaned down again. 

“I win,” he mumbled. 

“You’ll get yours.” 

“Oh really, now?” 

“Yes, really.” 

“Show me.” 

Before either could respond to the playful banter, there was a knock on the door. Byleth gasped and flung Dimitri off of him. Taken off guard by the sudden action, Dimitri teetered off the side of the bed and landed on the floor. The wood vibrated as he groaned. Byleth struggled to get dressed, and just as he had, a voice called out through the door. 

“Papa, Dedue says he has something of yours that he’d like to return,” Jeralt said through the door. “Well...I heard a loud noise? Is everything okay?” 

“Everything’s fine,” Byleth said through the door. “Is he free now? Can we meet you and him at his home?” 

“Yes, that’ll be fine. I’ll let him know you’re both on the way.”

“Thank you.” 

Byleth listened until the footsteps were unheard. He walked to the side of the bed and frowned as he towered over his husband, still curled on the floor. His brows knitted as Dimitri groaned. 

“Can I still have mine?” he mumbled. 

The scene was pitiful for the burly man Dimitri was. Byleth sighed and exhaled a light chuckle, one hand on his hip. “Well, we can’t have you leaving this room with a visual... _indicator_ of what we’ve been up to.” 

“No, we can’t. And it is _quite_ obvious. At least you can hide it...” 

“Get up then, Your Majesty. You being curled up like this is pitiful.” 

Dimitri pushed himself to his feet and exhaled, sweat on his brow as he loosened his belt. It was quiet as Byleth pushed him back on the bed, mindful of the time. If he could bring his husband to the brink while also keeping pace with the clock, then perhaps he was more shrewd than he thought himself to be. The challenge was accepted. When Dimitri groaned at the first touch, the task became simpler and simpler. As time went on, it only grew louder. Byleth blushed, his hands on Dimitri's thighs. 

“Quiet down, Dimitri,” Byleth chastised lightly. “We’re not the only ones on this floor.” 

“Beloved, I am sorry, but it has been over twenty years…” 

“What a nice excuse you’ve got there.” 

When it was over, Dimitri laid limp on the bed, chest laboring. His arms and legs stretched out as stared at the ceiling, dazed and lost in thought. Byleth combed his hair and sprayed rose water over his face and clothing. He picked up the half-eaten apple and bit into it. 

“My love,” he said, his face deadpan, “put on your trousers. We have somewhere to be.” 

The request was obliged. Dimitri sprayed rosewater, combed his shoulder-length hair, then plucked the apple from his husband’s hand. It crunched as he took a bite. “Beloved, a request for you.” 

“What is it?” 

“Fix that damn charm. _Please_.”

Light chuckles intertwined with Byleth taking another bite of the apple. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has become longer than I ever anticipated. lol I know it may not be the best narrative, but I write it to chill and relax after a long day, so I don't mind. Thanks for reading and thank you for commenting. I'm very thankful people have found my late night imaginations enjoyable! :)


	26. A Warm Welcome

The dusk sky was alight with hues of red and orange. The warmth of the fireplace in Dedue’s den mixed with the dim room, lighting the humble space with care. Annette served cookies and Jeralt wasted no time wolfing a few down. Byleth watched with a chuckle. Dimitri and Dedue spoke briefly before the vassal excused himself. He soon returned with a weapon near as long as he was, ducking the tip under the frame of the doorway. It was aglow with fiery color. 

“Your Majesty, I have hidden this weapon away for many, many years,” Dedue said. “I safeguarded it, for even though Jeralt is old enough to inherit it, wiedling it in the open would reveal his identity. So, Seteth and I agreed to keep it buried away. Now, you have returned to lead us to a better tomorrow. Take it. It is rightfully yours.” 

Dimitri’s eye widened as he took his heirloom relic in his hands. “Areadbhar. How did you find this? I was wielding it the day I disappeared.” 

A solemn expression fell over Dedue as he passed the weapon over. “After the blast, we formed a search party of a wide radius around the monastery. We found Areadbhar on one side of the Sealed Forrest, the Sword of the Creator on the other. These were the only physical items we could retrieve from the battlefield that belong to you. We assume the blast flung them in opposite directions, because according to witnesses, those who saw you both last said you were together.”

“Such gruesomeness. I can hardly imagine…” Byleth sighed with dismay. 

“Yes, Your Grace, the aftermath of the javelins was quite gruesome. However, we still continued the search for the royal couple. The only clue we found was a trail of blood right outside the radius of the blast zone, which when tested, contained indicators of the Crest of Flames.”

“I was hit by an arrow that grazed my thigh. Dimitri picked me up to help me back to the monastery, and that’s when we were caught in the crosshairs. That blood was likely from my injury.” 

“My son,” Dimitri interjected, “you have the power to wield this weapon. It has been passed down from father to son for many, many generations. My father wielded it, and so did his father, and so on. Anyone with a crest can technically wield a relic, but only the right crest-bearer can unleash its true power. With the Crest of Blaiddyd, you can.” 

Jeralt startled, his eyes wide. “Papa, but you’re here. I don’t think it’s rightfully mine at this point in time.” 

“I will wield it for the time being. However, do not be mistaken, it _is_ rightfully yours. Anytime you wish for me to show you how to wield it, please tell me. It is a tradition passed down through the royal family bloodline.”

“The same can be said for the Sword of the Creator,” Byleth added. “You wield the Crest of Flames, and thus can wield it to its true potential.” 

“I’ve been told this before, but seeing it with my own eyes, it’s still so unbelievable…” Jeralt mumbled. 

Dimitri smiled with reassurance and handed the lance back to Dedue. “Worry not. There is no pressure for you to wield them now. Anyway, you have my most sincere gratitude, Dedue. Can I request that you keep it hidden away until we venture into Abyss? It would raise brows for me to carry it around the city.” 

“Of course, Your Majesty.” 

“You don’t have to keep calling me that, but...I suppose I won’t stop you.” 

“You cannot... _Dimitri_ …” Dedue said with a chuckle. “You are the one, true king. Where you go, I will follow.” 

“Annette?” Byleth said, cutting through the conversation. He furrowed his brows. “Are you okay with what we plan to do?” 

She smiled as if the question had an obvious answer. “Of course. I’m coming with you all. It’s time to set free the followers of the goddess, those that have been mistreated for far too long. We would have likely been there by now if not for Jeralt. He’s just adorable, always needing a fresh batch of cookies from Auntie.” 

Jeralt’s face flushed. “Me?” 

“Yes, you,” she teased with a giggle. “You’re coming along, aren’t you? Even Auntie Annette is going, so if you want more sweets, you’ve got to follow.”

“Yes. Wherever my parents go, I will follow.” 

“What a sweetie for a son you have, Professor.” 

“It seems so,” Byleth replied with a soft smile. “I’m so happy.” 

After a brief farewell, and a few more cookies, Jeralt walked along the town streets with his parents as they made their way higher into Garreg Mach. He couldn’t rid himself of the thought of his parents happy to see him, of how proud and enthusiastic they were of him. He was just as joyful to see them, but the two sides didn’t feel the same. They embraced him at every chance, smiled with sincerity, and offered knowledge and tales of yesteryear. Given how they met, such eagerness seemed undeserved. 

They stopped in front of Jeralt’s room. Byleth cupped his son’s cheek. “Goodnight, my child. Sleep well.” 

Jeralt cupped the one on his cheek, his brows furrowed. His heart hammered, unease falling over him. “Father, Papa, will you...step inside for just a moment? There is something I’d like to speak with you about.” 

“Of course.” 

The family filed into the room. Jeralt lit candles so they could look each other in the eye, and the task made his thoughts all the more daunting. He stepped back and bowed, true regret in his expression. 

“I am so sorry, Father, Papa,” he said, his tone desperate. “I hope you’ll one day forgive me.” 

Dimitri shook his head, taken off-guard by the sudden confession. “What for, my son?” 

“When we first met, I--locked you up. It was so awful, and I can’t move past it. It was wrong and I was a coward and...Gah, I’m not worthy of your relics. I locked up the King of Faerghus and the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros, my own _parents_. This has plagued me since it happened.”

“We harbor no anger over that. It was a necessary event. If not for that, we would never have learned the truth of who you are, and we would have never reunited with Seteth, Dedue, and the others.” 

“If I had to spend the night locked up to be able to live alongside my son again, that experience was well worth it,” Byleth added. “If you hadn’t held us in place, we would have likely walked away from you. Especially since you said your name was Marth. We would still be wandering the land, wondering what happened to our family. We would have walked away from Seteth, Flayn, and Dedue. Rhea would not be awake. All this is because we reunited.” 

“You both put too much faith in me, truly…” 

“Perhaps we do,” Dimitri said. He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. That is what we are _meant_ to do as parents. All my trust is in my family. I have nothing left to cling to. I will always see you as someone I can place my faith in. I don’t want you to make the mistakes I did.” 

Jeralt put his head down, both hands clasped together at his chest. “Papa, I...love you. Perhaps I haven't said it much, I can’t remember now. I know I told Father on the terrace, but you should hear the same. I have to admit, you intimidated me the first few days after we met. When you first embraced me, I thought I might get crushed. There are many stories of brutality surrounding you and I...don’t know. It’s foolish to admit these things to you, but I was awed by you, yet terrified at the same time. I just want to say I’m sorry. Those thoughts were misguided.” 

“No, Jeralt, please don’t apologize. What you have read in the history books is part of my legacy. I was a wretch. I claimed countless lives, I slaughtered imperial troops by the dozen. I was a hateful man, an ill man also. Ill in the mind, nearly irredeemable. Byleth is the only reason I stand here today. He brought me back from the depths, and helped tame the demon within me. I still hear voices of the dead calling me, even today. I just don’t cover my ears anymore.” 

“I understand…” Jeralt sighed. “I just thought I’d settle these feelings before we leave for our journey, while we have the last few days of leisure before things inevitably get hectic.” 

Dimitri nodded. He stepped forward and patted Jeralt’s head. “Of course. I have sins I must atone for, Jeralt. I won’t lie to you and act as though I was a saint. You being intimidated by me is reasonable. I hope I can still be a good father to you regardless.” 

“I’m not intimidated anymore, Papa. I see that, despite your strength, you can be gentle, even if only for your family.” 

“Yes. This is true. The first time I held you after you opened your eyes...I was so afraid I would hurt you. Thank you, my son. Please, always tell us what is on your mind. Getting to know each other like this is not easy, and we should be honest about it.” 

“I will.” 

“Thank you. I love you.” 

Byleth bit his lip, swallowing the tears in his eyes. Watching his husband and son bond so openly was squeezing his heart in two. He had always been nervous about Dimitri distancing himself from the family out of fear of harming their child or becoming boarish. The nervousness that sprouted before Jeralt was born finally faded. Nothing put him more at ease. 

**-0-**

The warm candlelight flickered over the bed as the former royal couple settled. Byleth sighed and rubbed his eyes, lost in thoughts of no import. Random memories of yesteryear played in his head until he heard the turn of pages. He turned, a book hung above Dimitri’s head. 

“Still with that fantasy nonsense?” Byleth mumbled. 

Though Dimitri heard the words, he didn’t comprehend them. He turned his head and leaned the book over and into his husband’s face. “Beloved, can you read aloud those last two paragraphs? My eye is straining and I cannot make out the words anymore.” 

The book was taken into Byleth’s hands. He was irritated that Dimitri was still reading the fictional stories about them. It was rooted in pure embarrassment, given some of the more explicit scenes, and made him want to buy every last copy and bury them somewhere for all eternity. Even though Dimitri asked nicely, he couldn’t bring himself to read it. It would send him into a sleepless cycle of thinking about what could have been, and he wasn’t in the mood for it. 

Byleth sighed again and opened to the page. A tease slipped through his tongue, and he made up his own sentences. “Byleth looked at Dimitri with a loving gaze,” he pretended to read. “He...spread his legs and said, _Dimitri, please, impregnate me!”_

The blankets rustled as Dimitri startled. “What!?” 

Byleth chuckled and blew out the candle on his side of the bed. He shifted, curling on his side as the book landed on the nightstand. “Goodnight.” 

Two arms wrapped around Byleth’s toros, deep, soft laughter in his ear. Dimitri placed his head next to his and pulled his back into his chest. “If you want a lesson in that, I can give it to you sometime, Professor,” Dimitri teased. 

A grunt followed an elbow to the former king’s chest. Byleth huffed, his cheeks aflame in the darkness. “You are so bad. I could smack your head clean off.” 

“You started it.” 

“Look at us. We bicker and tease like we’ve been married over twenty years. Even so, we’ve slept through most of our marriage.” 

“It is all in good fun.” 

The sheets shifted as Byleth turned to face Dimitri. His hand pet his husband’s hair. “I wanted to have more of your children, in all honesty.” 

Dimitri cupped Byleth’s shoulder and rubbed it. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I would not count it out as impossible.” 

“How so? Jeralt is grown and we missed it all. I cannot have more children, only to give them what I couldn’t give my eldest. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

“I understand. This is quite the predicament. But with the talk of raising a resistance army and battling to free the land, perhaps these thoughts are best saved for another time.” 

“Yes, I suppose so. I was so afraid when I was pregnant. I was embarrassed. What if I had just been honest with the public? What if I had _shown_ them I was clearly going to give birth, and warned our foes to step away? Perhaps sightings of the enemy would have flowed through the citizenry and to the castle, and all of this would’ve been avoided.” 

“The past cannot be changed, my beloved. We must move forward now. I know it pains you, and I will support you through that pain. You blame yourself for too much. It worries me. You never did anything wrong or uncalled for.” 

Tears bubbled in Byleth’s eyes. He sniffled and placed his hand over the one that cupped his cheek. “I just feel like I failed my son.” 

“ _You didn’t,_ Byleth. You didn’t fail him any more or less than I did. Our enemies took us from him. They will pay in due time for all the suffering they have caused.” 

“I...know. Deep down, _I know_ it’s not my fault. This voice in my head just keeps telling me it is.” 

Byleth was pulled into Dimitri’s chest, his head on his heartbeat. The sound, so foreign to his ears, soothed him. He listened as hands rubbed his back. “I know voices are hard to be rid of. Just be kind to yourself,” Dimitri said. “I love you.” 

“I love you. Stay with me forever.” 

“Of course.” There was a pause as the soothing continued. “Byleth?” 

“Hm?” he replied, his eyes starting to lull. 

“If, one day, you become with child again, I don’t want you to hide it. I want you to be comfortable enough with yourself, and the world we live in, to be open with it. I want to help you build that type of world.”

“Me too, Dimitri,” Byleth mumbled, already half-asleep. “Me too.” 

**-0-**

The morning greeted with thunder pounding on the door to their room. Byleth startled out of deep sleep, his body rattled and his chest tight where his heart didn’t beat. He clutched his torso and exhaled while Dimitri scrambled to put on his armor. The pounding continued. 

_“You boar!”_ someone shouted through the door. “Open the damn door. _Now_.” 

“Who is--” Byleth didn’t finish his sentence, already knowing the answer. He left the sheets and began to dress. 

“Uncle, don’t you think this is causing a scene?” Jeralt was heard through the wood, his voice meek. 

“Jeralt, your father is a _boar!_ ” Felix retorted, tone frustrated and guttural. “Disappearing like that for _twenty years_ . Now he decides to show up again!?” He banged on the door again. “Your _beastliness_ , I’m _going_ to break the door down.” 

“Kid, after over twenty years of marriage, I’ve learned Felix _cannot_ be controlled,” Sylvain added with a laugh. 

The door opened. Felix, Sylvain, and Jeralt stood on the other side, Felix’s hand posed for another fist against the wood. Dimitri and Byleth stared at their friends, and their son, with doe eyes. A sharp embrace caused Dimitri to stumble back. 

“You fucking beast, we thought you died,” Felix said, his words still harsh despite their embrace. “We searched every mountain, every valley. For nearly a decade! Do you realize how _guilty_ we felt? How many times I’ve had your son stay with me in my territory over the years? I’m so glad you’re alive I could--I could fucking kill you _myself!_ ” 

“I-I am sorry, Felix…” Dimitri mumbled as they pulled away. 

“Yeah, I know you’re a sorry person. Just don’t leave again. Your son has got his hopes up, finally having a father. Don’t squander this for him by being an idiot and dying. _Again_.” 

“I understand. Thank you for looking after him in my stead. I am...eternally grateful.” 

Felix turned to Byleth with a sigh. “Professor. This land has been lost without you.” 

“I’m so sorry….” Byleth frowned, knitted brows showing his remorse. 

“No need. You’re here now. We’ve been briefed by Seteth and Dedue. We shall join you in Abyss to fight against these beasts.” 

Sylvain nodded. He walked to Byleth’s side and wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulder. “You can count on us. We’ve already handed off the internal affairs of our territories and ordered our troops to standby on order. We’re ready. This reign of darkness, of persecution of the weak and faithful, it must end.” 

“Thank you…” Byleth sighed. “We didn’t have a clue how severe the situation was until Seteth and Jeralt filled us in. We will fight to set the people free and restore a regency that welcomes worship and open voices for all. It’s the least we can do, given our absence is what led to everything caving in on itself.” 

“You’re not to blame. We’ve known about Seteth’s underground hideout for followers of the goddess for a while now. We’ve been in communication, helping each other “smuggle” our refugees to safety. There has got to be a large population down there now. Without a doubt, some of them will remember you.” 

“Our territories fought back for as long as they could,” Felix interjected. “We eventually were overpowered and surrendered. Oddly enough, they let us keep power. I guess they thought us too insignificant to bother with.”

“Big mistake on their part. Right, baby?” Sylvain said to Felix with a wink. He only got a huff in return, which caused him to laugh. Dimitri furrowed his brows. 

“Sylvain...I hope you didn’t teach my son your...skirt-chasing ways,” he mumbled. 

“I tried to teach him how to flirt, yeah, but he never used it. He’s never been with a girl or a guy.” 

Jeralt flushed and clasped his hands together. Byleth patted his shoulder. “I hadn’t either at his age,” he said. “I was only ever courted by Dimitri after the war. I suppose I was...twenty-six when I got married? Maybe? I slept for five years, so…” 

“How old are we, Byleth?” Dimitri asked with a frown. “Our bodies didn’t age.” 

“It’s Imperial year 1207. Jeralt was born in late 1186, and we disappeared in early 1187. So, doing the math…” Byleth frowned. “I still don’t know what should count and what shouldn’t...I’ve spent more time asleep than I have alive…” 

“Father, that’s a bit overwhelming to hear you say…” Jeralt mused, his brows knitted with empathy. 

“Well, my father used to say, by the time you’re forgetting your own age, you’re past the point of caring. Perhaps that’s the best path for us. I suppose it matters not. Age is but a number.” 

Sylvain sighed and patted Byleth’s shoulder. “Damn, Professor. You’ve really gotten a lot stolen from you. We’ll help you put down these thieves that robbed you of your life with your son. They've robbed not only you, but so many more. They took away Faerghus, the Church, and destroyed whole villages. With you and Dimitri back, we can form a team of generals to create a resistance.” 

“Now is as good a time as any to pick up my blade again,” Felix said. “It’ll be one to remember. You better join us, Jeralt. We’ve been training you all these years. It’s time to show us what you’re made of.” 

“O-Oh!” Jeralt said, stiffening his stance. “I’ll--I’ll do my best!” 

Byleth smiled. “We’ll train much before we enter a real battle. It may be a few months of gathering resources before we make our presence known. For now, we’re meeting with Seteth and the others this afternoon to make the journey. Make sure you have everything you need. After this, there is no coming back.” 

“I’m--I’m prepared, Father. I’m ready anytime.” 

“Thank you. We won’t let everyone down.”

**-0-**

The corridors leading far underground were musty with aged water and moss. A large group had gathered at the leadership of Byleth and Seteth, former members of the old holy kingdom ready to abandon life on the surface for the more clandestine underground. Jeralt struggled to process how quickly his life had changed. Everyone he held dear was at his side, and had readily abandoned their everyday lives to follow his parents’ leadership. He wasn’t any different. Their charisma was beyond measure. 

“Your Majesty,” Dedue said, interrupting the silence, “the people will surely herald your return as a sign of liberation. I am happy to be at your side again to see it through.” 

“Will they believe that Byleth and I are the royal couple of old?” Dimitri asked. 

“Yes, I would think so,” Flayn said. “Byleth’s unique appearance is unmistakable. He is a symbol of the faith just as the saints are.”

Seteth nodded. “This is true. Rhea is with us as well. Our arrival is sure to cause quite the commotion.” 

The echoing of footsteps continued as the conversation lulled. It was a long journey, the surface world of yesterday far, far away. With a small pack of his belongings, Jeralt had finally made the realization that there was truly no more turning back for him. With everyone he thought of as family at his side, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. 

The hallways gave way to wider spaces. The group eventually came upon a wide bridge in the distance. A guard stood post, blocking their way. Seteth walked up to him, Byleth and the rest of the group not far behind. The lance the guard was holding drop to the ground as a look of awe struck his expression. He scrambled and picked it up with haste. 

“Your Grace!” he exclaimed. “Is it...really you? Am I just seeing things?” 

Byleth startled, stunned into silence. He had tried his best to prepare for what would happen once he was recognized, but he didn’t expect it to happen so soon. The guard's eyes went from person to person as he gawked. 

“King Dimitri. Archbishop Byleth. There’s no way. The last I saw them was twenty years ago, the day the javelins fell from the sky,” the guard continued. “The archbishop healed my wounds and saved my life.” 

“I--I remember. You were...Marcus,” Byleth said. 

“Yes! By the Goddess, Your Grace! You’ve returned to us! And...Lady Rhea is here too!? This is fate. The Goddess Sothis has sent help for her persecuted, yet ever faithful followers.” 

“I’m here to do what I can. If I may ask, will you please show us the way?” 

Marcus bowed. “Of course. This way.” 

The group was led across the bridge. Jeralt peered over the railing and grew queasy at the chasm that led deep into a darkness the likes of which he had never seen. A small group had already begun to form at the other end at the sight of such a large group entering the underground. Some gasped, and it became clear they were already being recognized. Whispers and exclamations added to the crowd size. Byleth was at the front, and stopped when the crowd made it impossible to move forward. Dimitri joined his side. People gawked. 

“His Grace has returned to us after twenty long years!” Marcus said to them, his voice projected to reach the back of the crowd. “It’s the miracle we always prayed for!” 

More gasps erupted. Some stood skeptical, others cried tears of joy, and more cheered. “King Dimitri, is it really you?” someone said in the front of the line. 

“Where have you been all this time, Your Grace?” another asked. “We’ve been suffering under this tyrannical empress.” 

Byleth inhaled, his brows furrowed. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. “Twenty years ago, my husband and I were caught in the blast from the Javelins of Light. Our injuries were so severe that we were locked in a static void to heal, and that healing took two decades. The only reason we’re alive is through the power of the Goddess. Once I learned the fate of her faithful followers, I came here to return her voice to the people.

“We believe this land belongs to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Church of Seiros. We wish to liberate it and return it to a place where the people can live in peace. However, we cannot do so without forming a resistance. If the people of the underground are willing, we will guide you, and we’ll all pick up arms for our greater cause. If you believe in the rightful reign of King Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd and his heir, please join us.”

The crowd cheered. Jeralt startled, overwhelmed by how quickly the people gave their fealty over. He shrunk into the background, sandwiching himself between Dedue and Annette. The cheering died down after a moment. 

“Your Majesty, who is the heir the archbishop refers to?” Marcus asked. The crowd fell silent, anxiously awaiting a word from their former king. 

Dimitri stepped beside Byleth. They glanced at each other and nodded. “Twenty years ago, the archbishop bore me a son. We hid him from the public because those that currently rule this land targeted him and wanted him killed. He has been living in secret all these years for his own safety. His place on the Faerghus throne was stolen from him, just as so much was stolen from everyone here. I was even robbed the opportunity to raise him, to give him a role within my kingdom.” 

Byleth stepped back and grabbed Jeralt by the shoulder and guided him to the front. Jeralt stiffened as he came to stand in between his parents, a sea of eyes upon them. His heart throbbed in his throat. Byleth held both of his shoulders and smiled with pride. 

“This is our son, Jeralt Eisner Blaiddyd. He has decided to join us in our cause to liberate this continent,” he said. 

The crowd erupted into cheer once again. Byleth nodded and spoke again. “Lady Rhea, the former archbishop, and my right hand, Seteth, have also joined us. Leaders from Faerghus are among us as well. Over the next few months, we would like to prepare an army of resistance to topple the false Church of Zahras. As seasoned generals and soldiers, we will teach you everything you must know. Please join us if you are able and willing.” 

The elation and hope in the air was undeniable. Jeralt shrunk back, overwhelmed at the atmosphere. Dimitri smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to keep him from sinking too far away. 

“Glory to Faerghus!” someone shouted. “Long live King Dimitri, the Savoir King!” 

Dedue stepped to Dimitri’s side. He smiled, a look of triumph in his eyes. “Welcome back, _Your Majesty._ ”


	27. Sun and Sunshine

For the first few hours within Abyss, it was difficult to find breathing room. Jeralt was shuffled around with his parents and the rest of the group, meeting with leaders and other top members of the underground community. His parents, Seteth, and Rhea did most of the talking, and he kept to the back. After many hours of this, the members of the community cleared a section of the underground for their newest members. Rooms were divided in pairs. Couples were given rooms to themselves, Seteth and Rhea elected to share a room, leaving Jeralt with Flayn. She cheered, peering up at him. 

“Oh, Jeralt, it is a sleep over!” she said with a smile. “Do you remember those days where we would camp on the beach?” 

“I do. Those were fun days,” he replied with a nod. 

Byleth and Dimitri walked up to them. “Are you both weary? Perhaps we should eat, then rest for the night. Tomorrow is yet another early morning,” Byleth said. 

“Yes, Father. I think that would be best. I’ll tell the others.” 

It was quiet as Jeralt walked away. Flayn chuckled and brushed through the curls. “Oh, Professor, Jeralt is precious. There is no one else like him. He is like a brother to me.” 

“I’m glad he had you and Seteth as family all these years. You have my gratitude. Words will never be enough,” Byleth said with a sigh. 

“There is no need for thanks. Jeralt has been there for us just as much as we have been there for him.” 

“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy we’re all together again.” 

As Byleth, Dimitri, and Flayn stood idle in casual chatter, Jeralt got lost in the twisted hallways of residential rooms. Felix and Sylvain’s room was supposed to be right around the corner, and yet he couldn’t see any trace of where he should be. He assumed he took a wrong turn, but without a guide to take him back to the start, he circled through similar looking places over and over. He sighed and slumped against the wall, trying to gain his bearings. Voices from a partially cracked door reached his ear. 

“That kid King Dimitri said was his son, what do you think of that?” one said.

“I don’t know. I mean, shouldn’t we just take His Majesty’s word for it? What reason does he have to lie about that?” another replied. 

“He looks like His Majesty, definitely, but he said the archbishop bore the child. How?” 

“The archbishop has the essence of the goddess within him. Is it so hard to believe that he could create a child with the king?” 

“Yeah, I suppose. It just seems odd. This kid will have to prove it to be true. If he is the true heir to King Dimitri, his strength should be clear.” 

“It’s possible the kid was born from a mistress and the king just didn’t want to embarrass the archbishop in front of everyone.”

“That makes sense.” 

Jeralt frowned. He didn't know who all these people were, yet they were already expecting things from him. Pressure sank onto his shoulders. He sighed and got lost in the words until a familiar figure turned the corner. Byleth grabbed his wrist, his eyes blown wide. He sighed. 

“My child, why are you here?” he said. “We’ve been waiting in the dining hall for you some time now. You had me worried sick.”

“I’m so sorry, Father…” Jeralt frowned as his father led him away by the wrist. “I got lost.”

“It’s alright. You’re grown, I suppose I shouldn’t fuss so much when you’re not near.” 

They kept walking through the corridors. When they came into the large dining hall, the rest of their group was gathered at a long table. People stared and whispered, enthralled by the sight of the long, lost royalty of old. Jeralt sat in between his parents. They were served by waiters and waitresses as everyone talked amongst themselves. The meal was light with casual chatter, a contrast to the previous conversations of the day. 

“Jeralt,” Byleth called out with a smile. He folded his hands in his lap after their meal. “I hear there is a tavern a little ways from here with a special pudding. Would you like to try some with me?” 

“Of course, Father. Lead the way.” 

The tavern was noisy with drunken patrons and loud bar games. Jeralt and Byleth ordered their pudding and snuck away, finding quiet in a more secluded part of the underground. They found an altar space of what appeared to be a goddess other than Sothis, the room empty. The statue sat atop a grand fountain trickling water, and they sat on the edge of the stone trimming of the water. Byleth put a spoonful in his mouth. Jeralt did the same, and gagged. It was potent, the taste of herbs and whiskey stronger than the cocoa. He sighed. The bartender had insisted on giving them each the largest cups without cost, and it seemed rude to throw it away. Even so, he’d lose his dinner if he took another spoonful. Byleth took another bite. 

“This is quite nice,” he said. “I like the sweetness.” 

Jeralt nodded, but didn’t respond. He listened to the tranquil trickle of the water behind him. “I heard some people talking about you, Father.” 

“Did you? It wasn’t anything malicious, was it?” 

“No, not at all. They just questioned you being my true parent. They think I’m not really related to you at all.” 

“Oh, Jeralt, there’s no need to worry over that. You are Dimitri’s heir regardless of who they think gave birth to you. It’s proven enough with your crest.” 

“Yes, but I also have the Crest of Flames. Doesn’t that prove my relation to you?” 

“Yes. However, the Crest of Flames can be surgically given to someone at the detriment of their health. Even so, any extensive blood comparison between you and I would prove our relation to each other.” 

Jeralt frowned with a sigh. He twirled the pudding around with the spoon. “It saddens me, Father. I know how much you went through just to see me born, and hearing people doubt that, it doesn’t give you due respect for all you’ve done.” 

A gloved hand cupped Jeralt’s cheek. Byleth smiled at him, warmth in his gaze. His eyes pierced through the dim lighting, bright and shining. “You’re so sweet, Jeralt, worrying about me in such a way. It’s alright, child. Dimitri and I know the truth, and so do you. As your parents, we find that most important. They can think as they please. It will only become an issue if they contest your claim to a Faerghus throne, if it may be reborn in the future.” 

“Father...” Jeralt went to contest the words. He exhaled with a pause. “I don’t like the thought that people won’t acknowledge you as my parent. You gave birth to me. I don’t want some nameless, imaginative maiden to take credit for that. It makes Papa look bad, too. It makes it look like he was unfaithful to you.” 

Byleth sighed and pulled his hand away from Jeralt’s cheek. He took a few bites of his pudding. “Perhaps that is true. People will come to accept us as family. It may take some convincing on our part, but they will see. For now, you don’t have to lose sleep over it. Things will come to pass soon.” 

“Alright, Father. I will try my best to push it to the side.”

“Thank you.” Byleth smiled and continued indulging in his pudding. He sighed and stared at the ceiling. “When I was expecting you, your papa took a tour of the kingdom while I stayed at the monastery. It was a few months, and I spent some of that time preparing for your arrival. I had set up the bassinet and sheets, organized supplies, a whole lot of things. I was hoping Dimitri would bring some things back for you. He did, but not much. Just a blanket and a stuffed bear far larger than you could handle. It could’ve suffocated you had I let you near it!” 

Jeralt furrowed his brow. “Was Papa not initially excited about my arrival?” 

“The opposite. He was overjoyed. He was just _so lost_ . He didn’t know what to do or what to buy. It was quite endearing. He was unsure of how to care for you at first. Yet, the moment I told him you were coming, his love for you was clear. He was with me when you were born, and held you before I did. So, know that no matter what others may say, our love for you will not falter. You are our son. _No one_ can take you from us. I won’t allow it.” 

“I see. I’m learning so much about myself I didn’t even know.” 

“I’m learning much about you as well. It makes me so happy.” Byleth smiled and shoved his spoon in his mouth again. “My, this pudding is amazing. Do you not like it, Jeralt? You haven’t eaten much.” 

“I don’t...care for the taste. It would be rude of me to waste it, though.” 

The cup was taken from Jeralt’s hands. Byleth chuckled and dove in for a second helping. “I’ll take care of that for you.” 

Jeralt chuckled with him. “Thanks, Father.” 

It was quiet as Byleth indulged in more pudding. Jeralt kicked his boots against the ground and got lost in thought. The solitude and the dripping water caused him to nod off for a moment. Footsteps echoed from somewhere outside the room, and Jeralt stiffened. He instinctively placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. Dimitri turned the corner and sighed. 

“There you two are,” he said. “I was wondering where you snuck off to.” 

“Oh, it’s Dima!” Byleth cheered. He scraped the remaining pudding from the bottom of his cup. The spoon was pushed into the air. “Hey, Dima, try some pudding.” 

“Well, I can’t--” Dimitri paused and shrugged. He put out his hand to take the spoon. “Alright. I’ll try.” 

The spoon was pulled away. “Don’t touch my spoon, Dima,” Byleth chided. He held it out again. 

“What am I supposed to…”

“Try it!” 

The answer became clear when Byleth pointed it upward. Dimitri chuckled and leaned down, taking the spoon in his mouth. Byleth pulled it back and scavenged for anything left in the cup. Dimitri’s eye widened as he coughed. 

“Gah! What is that? It _burns_ ,” he said. 

“It’s chocolate pudding with whiskey and herbs,” Jeralt interjected. “It’s...overbearing.” 

“That’s putting it lightly.” Dimitri exhaled and cleared his throat. “I only got the burn since my sense of taste has been gone for some time now. It was an injury from the Tragedy of Duscur. You have read about that, right, my son?” 

“Extensively. I’m...sorry such a tragedy happened to you, Papa.” 

Dimitri smiled slightly and pat Jeralt’s head. “There is no need to apologize, Jeralt. It happened long before you were born. I am just happy I lived long enough to have a family.” 

The cups were placed on the ground, spoon clanking. Byleth sighed and lulled his head on Jeralt’s shoulder. “You are so perfect, my child,” he mumbled. “Aren’t you perfect, Jeralt?”

“Well...I would think not. There is still much I need to improve on,” Jeralt said with a frown. Byleth startled and furrowed his brows, leaning off his shoulder. Clear dismay appeared in his expression. 

“Don’t lie, Jeralt. Why would you lie to your father?” he said with a pout. 

“Lie about what, Father? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

Dimitri shook his head. His eye went from the cups to Byleth’s lulling eyes. He chuckled. “So the progenitor god himself has an alcohol intake limit. I never thought such a thing possible.” 

“What do you mean, Papa?” Jeralt paused. He gasped. “Do you think he’s intoxicated?”

“Oh, Dima…” Byleth interjected. He shook his head. “Our son is lying about his perfection. He won’t admit how perfect he is, he’s too modest. His humbleness just adds to how perfect he is, so the fact that he lied about his perfection is also perfect.” 

Laughter echoed in the room as Dimitri wiped his eye. Jeralt sat confused, a bit flustered about the sudden change in attitude. His father was always serious and well-poised, now a fumbling mess of incoherent thoughts. 

“All these years of marriage, and yet, I have never witnessed this,” Dimitri mused. “What a sight.”

“Is he okay?” Jeralt asked, his tone nervous. “This isn’t like him.”

“He’ll be fine. His blood is powerful. He wouldn’t fall to something as simple as a drunken stupor.” 

“I am so honored to have given birth to the most perfect being on this planet,” Byleth rambled. He pinched his nose and exhaled, then turned his attention to Jeralt. “You are my sunshine, Jeralt. You make my life so bright.” 

“Of course, Father…” Jeralt mumbled, his skin flushed. 

Byleth pushed himself off the fountain and stumbled into Dimitri’s chest. Arms wrapped around him to keep him steady. “Dima, you are my sun!” he proclaimed. “The sun that gave me my sunshine.” 

“Why is his drunkenness so _endearing?”_ Dimitri mumbled. He hoisted Byleth into his arms to keep him from stumbling again. “Head back to your room and get some rest, Jeralt. Don’t worry about your father. I’ll take care of him. He should be back to his normal self in the morning.” 

Jeralt stood with a nod, still unsure about everything. “I see. I’ll stop by about an hour after dawn so we can go to breakfast together.” 

“Yes, that will be fine. Sleep well, my son.” 

“You too, Papa.” 

“Sunshine, go to sleep now,” Byleth mumbled, his eyes closed. “You are so perfect.” 

“Of course, Father. Rest well.” 

Boots echoed the halls as Jeralt took his leave, Dimitri following not long after. Byleth kicked his feet, his arms wrapped around his husband’s shoulders. Luckily, he didn’t speak much until they were in their private quarters. Once laid on the bed in their small room, he began to ramble without recourse. 

“Hey, Dima…” he said. “You are so beautiful.” 

Dimitri took off his armor and boots. “Thank you, beloved.” 

“The first time I saw you undress I was so nervous. Then, I saw you nude and...I was scared it would hurt. I thought, well, you’re so much bigger than me, and to make love you have to--” 

“ _Alright_ , Byleth,” Dimitri interjected, his face red, “I understand what you mean.”

“How does it…”

“Byleth.” 

“...fit inside?” 

The former king pinched his nose and exhaled, his skin on fire. He chuckled, the surreal nature of the day overwhelming. It shouldn’t have flustered him to have such explicit conversations with his spouse, given they had shared their marital bed many times. However, it still did. He shook his head as he took off Byleth’s boots for him. Byleth stared at the ceiling, still rambling. 

“Dimitri, will you marry me?” 

“We already wed, beloved. Over twenty years ago.” 

“Oh. Would you marry me again, then?” 

“Of course.” 

Byleth smiled as Dimitri helped him out of his coat. After some fiddling, and a few stumbles, they were both dressed in their nightclothes. Tucked into the sheets by his husband, Byleth’s head hit the pillow. He scratched the nape of Dimitri’s neck and tugged on him, wrapping them in a sudden kiss. Dimitri startled at first, but soon fell into it. They kissed deeply over several minutes, and relief came over him when Byleth decided he didn’t wish to take it further. 

“Never leave me, Dimitri,” Byleth mumbled. “I wouldn’t be able to live without you.” 

“Beloved, I think you would push on without me, all for our son.”

“I’m _serious_. My soul is your soul. Two halves can’t be whole without each other.” 

“I believe you are confusing me with Sothis….” 

_“I’m not,”_ Byleth insisted. He kissed his husband again. “My Dimitri...I need you. I can’t be alone anymore. _Promise me_ I won’t be alone anymore. My husband deserves the world. I don’t care what must be done, I want him to be the king he’s meant to be. You are my king, Dimitri. My greatest friend, my love, the one that gave me a beautiful child.”

Dimitri blushed. He pet Byleth’s hair, unsure of what to say to such genuine, unfiltered words. “I love you, Byleth. I need you, too. Perhaps I don’t say it enough. I promise you, you will never be alone again.” 

“Thank you. Now, hold me please, Dimitri. I’m so tired…” 

The request was obliged. After a few more minutes of random mumbling, Byleth slipped off into sleep. Dimitri pet his hair throughout, kept awake by the uncertainty of the future. Things were progressing fast, and each moment shifted the course of their path. With so much uncertainty, and a looming war that may break at their hand, such promises seemed shallow. Dimitri was determined to see his promise through anyways. If anything had become clear through a drunken stupor, it was that Byleth was intertwined with Dimitri in every way. It wasn’t as if Dimitri could be sure all would be well if something happened to him. Byleth was genuine in his words. Where one of them went, the other would follow. It was an intimidating prospect, yet one filled with great adoration. Theirs was a love like no other. 

**-0-**

The faint lights from underneath the door, though not as bright as the sun, were a drain on Byleth’s eyesight. He opened his eyes, the pocket watch on the nightstand reading a time a few hours before dawn. He huffed and flopped back, his head pounding. Within the depths of the ache, he couldn’t recall why or how this discomfort was present. The light coming through cracks in the door hinges was still too much. 

Byleth huffed and flopped over. Dimitri was asleep, his eyepatch askew on his face, his other eye buried in the pillow. It was then Byleth came to have an idea that would hopefully help quell the bothersome lighting. 

The eyepatch was pulled from Dimitri’s face carefully. It didn’t wake him, and neither did the soft petting of his hair that came shortly after. After some fumbling, Byleth hooked the eyepatch around his ear and settled it on one eye. He buried his face into the pillow, the world a blissful black. He fell asleep soon after. 

It was just before dawn when Dimitri woke for the day. He patted his hair, then his face, and realized it felt bare in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. His eye opened, and the room was blurry at first. He blinked, and his husband’s curled form became clearer. He nearly gawked. The sight of Byleth wearing his eyepatch was unexpected and confusing. Even so, the more Dimitri stared, the more endearing it became. 

“Byleth,” he mumbled, petting Byleth’s bangs, “it is time to wake for the day.” 

A groan came as a response. Byleth reached out his hand and splayed fingers across Dimitri’s face. “Shhh…” 

“Are you alright, beloved? Why are you wearing my eyepatch?” 

“The lights, I wanted to block them out. My head is pounding…” Byleth whispered. He twisted deeper into the pillow. “Ugh, I feel like I have morning sickness.” 

Dimitri frowned. He rubbed his husband’s shoulder. “Well, it was quite the eventful night.” 

Byleth lunged upward and yanked the patch off. He groaned again, his body not pleased with the sudden jerking movements. “What does that mean!?” he exclaimed with a weak tone. “Am I pregnant!? Wait, that doesn’t make sense…”

A soft chuckle was emitted from the former king. “Beloved, you are not pregnant. Do you remember the pudding you ate last night? It contained whiskey, and you became intoxicated.” 

The bed jostled as Byleth collapsed against the pillows. “That must’ve been a lot of damn whiskey to make me feel like this. I’m the progenitor god, you know.” 

“I know that fact very well,” Dimitri said with another chuckle. 

“Did I...act like a drunkard?”

“Yes, you did speak a bit more freely than usual.”

“Oh, by the Goddess…” Byleth sighed with furrowed brows. “Do I want to know? I didn’t mean to become intoxicated, I only wanted that sweet cocoa…”

“It was nothing too extreme. You rambled about how “perfect” your son is for about ten minutes. Then, once we returned to our quarters, you proposed marriage to me, and talked about love-making and our souls being intertwined. You are quite the loving drunkard.” 

“Oh my. I’m sorry, Dimitri. I didn’t know it would do that to me, otherwise I wouldn’t have eaten it.” 

Dimitri placed the eyepatch back on once it was handed to him. “Don’t fret over it, Byleth. You are quite adorable when intoxicated. And you wearing my eyepatch...how endearing.” 

“H-Hey!” Byleth exclaimed, embarrassment on his cheeks. 

“My favorite part was when you said I was the sun that gave you your sunshine, which is Jeralt. How cute.” 

Hot flashes splotched Byleth’s skin. He pulled himself out of bed and started to dress in hopes that it would help him be rid of them. “That is so embarrassing…”

A kiss was placed on his cheek as Dimitri began to dress himself. It was quiet as the couple prepared for a day of meetings and discussions with his group and people of the underground. A knock on the door soon broke through the silence, and Byleth answered it. He sighed and welcomed his son inside, shutting the door to grant them some privacy. 

“I’m so sorry, Jeralt,” he said. “I didn’t mean to get intoxicated. If I made you uncomfortable, please accept my sincerest apologies.” 

Jeralt shook his head. “It wasn’t uncomfortable. You said nothing out of line, even while a bit woozy.” 

“I honestly had no intention of becoming a drunkard. Perhaps my craving for sweets is a flaw of mine. Interestingly enough, I never liked sweets before pregnancy cravings. I suppose that experience changed my pallet.” 

“I have to ask, Father. Do you...honestly see me as perfect?”

“Yes,” Byleth admitted with a sigh. “I love you, you’re my child. I will always have a bias in favor of you and your papa. You’re my family, my reason for living. I...suppose that “sunshine” metaphor I used has some merit. My son and my husband brighten my life when there is darkness. I don’t know what I'd do with myself should I ever be alone again.”

“You won’t be alone, Father. You have Papa and I, and the others as well. Lady Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn are extended members of our family also. Not to forget Dedue, Annette, Felix, and Sylvain. I’ve always considered them family, to the point I call them aunt and uncle.”

“Yes. I’m so relieved you’ve had family at your side in our absence. I know I must talk about when you were an infant and before you were born quite a bit. I’m sorry if it’s overwhelming. To me, those events seem like they were yesterday. My body in some ways still thinks I gave birth three or four months ago. It’s not easy to grapple with.”

Jeralt frowned. “Perhaps you should see a healer, Father, just for a boost in health and agility. I’m sure they would be able to help you with any physical side-effects of your long slumber.” 

“That is a wonderful idea, my son,” Dimitri interjected. “Perhaps we can find one here in the underground.” 

Byleth sighed, knowing Dimitri’s added comments meant he had no say in the matter. Perhaps it was for the best. He still had aches and pains, and a tender chest. He chalked most of it to stress, but even so, it was a hindrance. With the coming resistance army formation, he couldn’t afford to be bogged down. His duties as the archbishop and a war general were starting to reemerge. He couldn’t falter so early on. 

“Thank you for the suggestion, Jeralt,” Byleth said. “I will seek a healer to resolve these lingering after-effects.”

“Of course.” Jeralt smiled. “I want nothing more than your good health and happiness.” 

The words nearly made Byleth’s still heart skip a beat. His skin warmed at the words, the feeling of being genuinely loved by his son like no other emotion he had ever experienced. “I feel the same about you. You're such a sweet son. I’ve been blessed by the Goddess.” 

“Your return is her blessing to us all. Perhaps me the most.” 

“I agree. Let us enjoy breakfast together before our hectic day.” 

**-0-**

The day was long with meetings, greetings, and a tour of the large community sprawl far beneath the surface of the continent. It was full of activity and infrastructure, including markets, classes for children, and a few restaurants. There were training grounds and a library, an expansive collection of esoteric knowledge grabbing Byleth’s attention. He wished to dig through such a repository given the time. 

Jeralt walked up to his parents after a short break away from them. “Father, I have located the infirmary. If you wish, I can show you where it is so you may speak with a healer.” 

“Yes, please show me the way. This is not something I should procrastinate on,” Byleth said with a nod. He beckoned Dimitri, and the family ventured through the twisting halls of the dim underground. They turned a corner and entered a room full of beds and tools scattered throughout. A woman with short, brown-grey hair turned around. Byleth stared at her, and exhaled with shock. 

“Maneula,” he mumbled. 

“Byleth?” Manuela blinked. She furrowed her brow. “I’ve heard the rumors, but...I’ve been busy here and I...didn’t want to give myself hope.” 

“Maneula, I’m here. What you’ve heard is true. Twenty long years I slept…” 

The two embraced. She held him tight as if afraid he would disappear in her hands. She pulled away, emotion clear in her eyes. She sniffled and gazed at Jeralt. “This is Jeralt, isn’t it? I haven’t seen him since he was three or four. Hanneman and I came to the underground to look after the community here fifteen years ago.” 

“Yes, this is my son. I haven’t seen him since he was an infant. I can hardly believe how he’s grown.” 

“Me either. You know, when he came through here a few hours ago asking about healers, those eyes took me back to you in an instant. _By the goddess_ , Byleth, I’ve thought about you and Dimitri so much over these past twenty years.” 

Byleth frowned. “I’m so sorry….” He turned to Jeralt. “This is Manuela, Jeralt. She was my personal physician when I was the archbishop, and my colleague during my academy days. She acted as my midwife when you were born.”

“He looks so much like Dimitri,” Manuela mused. “Those eyes are entirely you though, Byleth. Piercing and gorgeous, they’re like jewels….” She sighed and patted Byleth’s shoulder. “You know, I’ve attended dozens of births these past years, and I have yet to encounter another child so silent when born.”

“I wish I could’ve stayed by your side, Manuela. If my life had gone as I wanted, perhaps...I would’ve had more children. It’s nothing more than what-ifs now. Even so, I have my son, and I’m thankful for that. I’m still grateful for what you did for me the day he was born.” 

“Oh, don’t mention it.” She smiled and gave him another hug. “Like I’ve said, I’ve attended dozens more births since then. It’s routine for me. You didn’t show up here because you knew you’d run into me. What do you need, my dear?” 

“Will you check me over? I’m still experiencing effects from my slumber.” 

“Of course. Right this way.” 

**-0-**

The infirmary was empty as Manuela checked Byleth over. Dimitri and Jeralt had left to spend time together, allowing old friends time alone to catch up. At the physician’s instistance, Byeth was laid back in a bed, and dressed in a temporary gown allowing for full check-over head-to-toe. He sipped water as she did her work. His whole body flushed when she parted his legs to look in between them. A fist clenched a lump of sheets on the bed. 

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Byleth,” she said with a reassuring smile. She picked up a tool from the tray next to her. He stiffened when she pressed it in, jolting him with a sensation he wasn’t expecting. He sighed and released tension when she pulled it out. 

“I’m sorry, dear. I should have warned you. Was that painful?” she asked. 

Byleth shook his head. “No, just an odd feeling. How am I?” 

“Everything looks fine, head-to-toe. Stress is likely contributing to how you feel, and lethargy is likely a side-effect of that. Your body does show signs of having given birth, but there is no indication of any lingering healing that needs to be done because of it. Your slumber likely helped you recover fully.” 

“I still...make milk. It’s embarrassing.” 

“I noticed. It’s fizzling out though, and doesn’t impact your appearance. I’ll give you an herb that calms the muscles, it should ease any aches you have.” Manuela rose and stood next to him. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. It’s a complex situation you’ve found yourself in.” 

“I’m thankful to have you in my life again, Manuela.” 

Manuela giggled. “Oh, you make me blush. Something Hanneman hasn’t been able to do in years now. He’s as absorbed as ever in his research.”

Heels clicked against the floor as she went to the other side of the room. She rummaged through a cabinet and returned with a packet of green herbs. She placed it on the table next to him. Byleth nodded at her with a nervous smile. “Thank you,” he said. 

“Of course. I’m happy to be your physician again. It’s a joy I could have never hoped for,” she said with a smile. Her light expression faded when a healer’s sternness passed through her eyes. “I need to warn you, though, dear. Don’t have sex. Despite what you’ve been through, you are still capable of conceiving. I caught that you’re ovulating when I examined you.” 

It was silent for a moment. Byleth’s face caught fire, his whole body tense. He pressed his arms and legs together as he curled in on himself. _“I’m so embarrassed,”_ he mumbled. 

“Why?” Manuela giggled again. “I'm a _physician_. I’ve told so many others what I’ve just told you. I hardly give it a second thought.”

“I’ve held back for the sake of playing it safe. Even so, I wondered whether or not that blast damaged me in any way. To have confirmation that I’m still capable of having children is an odd thought. I lost all my time with my son. He’s grown and I’m just now getting to know him. All the while, my body still thinks I have an infant lying around somewhere. It’s brutal.” 

Heels clicked as she stepped away again. After another trip to the cabinet, she placed a packet of tea bags next to the herbs. She sat next to him and held his hand. “I’m so sorry, Byleth. My heart breaks for you. You always struggled before and after the birth of your son. I just wanted to see you happy. When it was said you died, my heart couldn’t take it. It was a hard road, but I decided to look after followers of the goddess, just as I had when I was at your side.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I want to give this world back to the goddess.” 

“I will help you do that. For now, though, take some chamomile. It will help calm your thoughts and make it easier on you to rest.”

“It will help. Thank you again, my dear friend.” 

Manuela smiled. “Of course, Byleth. Welcome back.”

**-0-**

The training grounds were sparsely populated with people when Jeralt and Dimitri arrived. Attentions halted and others stared at them, the clashing of swords ceasing for a moment. Jeralt flushed and looked to Dimitri for guidance. Dimitri shrugged and picked up two training lances. 

“I’m not here as a king, just a fellow soldier,” he said to the others in the room casually. The others nodded, but still didn’t stop their curious stares. Dimitri nodded to them and turned back to his son. He placed a training lance in his hands. “My son, I would like to teach you a combat art today passed down through generations of the Blaiddyd family.” 

Jeralt nodded, a bit nervous at the prospect. “Alright, Papa. I’ve been trained in the lance extensively over the years by Uncle Sylvain.” 

“Good. This combat technique will pair well with your crest, the Crest of Blaiddyd. It is called _Paraselene_ , and once learned, will allow you to deal a powerful blow and incite a quick retreat afterward to keep yourself out of the enemy’s counterattack zone.” 

“I see. I’m ready to learn.” 

Dimitri smiled. He held his training lance and moved in his hands. The technique was steady and quick, a powerful blow dealt to the air as he demonstrated it a few times in a row. After each blow, Dimitri made a steady retreat with nimble footwork. Jeralt watched in awe, and realized that the rest of the room was as well. 

“The most difficult part of this technique is the transition into retreat after the blow. It is very easy to stumble, or twist your footwork. If so, it will slow you down and make you more susceptible to a counterattack. Use this art with caution, and only once you have mastered it,” Dimitri explained. He walked behind Jeralt and placed his hands on his forearms to position them. “Hold your lance in this starting position.”

The request was obliged. Dimitri took a place beside him so their movements could mimic one another. “Now, twist your lance like this. One hand over the other.” 

Jeralt listened, his grip tighter than usual. Not only was he receiving training from his parent for the first time, a crowd was watching his every move. The pressure was filtering into his grip and he moved. A nervous sweat broke out along the nape of his neck. Dimitri smiled. 

“Good,” he said. “We will practice the blow and the retreat separately, then incorporate them.” 

“Am I doing this right?” Jeralt mumbled to himself. He startled when his thoughts were heard. 

“Precisely. Let us sequence our steps together, then strike. On my mark.” 

They moved in tandem with each other, Dimitri just a tad faster. The motions repeated a few times. Jeralt huffed from the exertion of grappling with embarrassment and heavy combat. Dimitri pat his back. 

“Good work, my son. You are catching on quickly,” he praised. “Now for the retreat.” 

The next section of the technique was shown and practiced. Somehow, much to Jeralt’s dismay, an even larger crowd was forming on the peripherals of the training ground. After overhearing discussion about his true parentage, it placed immense pressure on him to excel in the presence of others. For the sake of himself and his parents, he wanted to prove to everyone he was the true son of the King of Faerghus and the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros. 

All parts of the technique were put together. They swung together a few times, Dimitri’s timing a crutch cue for Jeralt, telling him when to move and how to strike. After some time, Dimitri stepped away. 

“Alright, Jeralt. You seem to have learned all the steps. Show me your technique on this practice pole here,” Dimitri said, pointing to a pole with a stuffed bean bag around the top. With people still watching, Jeralt got into position. His heart hammered and his grip tightened. With his crutch gone, the nervousness reached its apex. He took a deep breath, focused on his target, and did his best to work through muscle memory. 

Using all his might, he swung. In the haze of his hasty attack, he heard a loud crash and a snap. He huffed once he finished pulling away, wiping the sweat on his brow with his sleeve. He glanced down to the weapon in his hands. 

“Huh?” Jeralt gawked at the snapped training lance. “It broke in two…” 

Gawking people on the other side of the room caught his attention. Their muttering, too far away to be understood, still reached his ears. He flushed and scanned the room. The bean bag on the pole was obliterated, small grains of rice and loose cotton scattered on the floor. It was his turn to gawk. 

“Did I do that?” he asked. 

Dimitri stood next to him with a nod. “Yes,” he replied, “your attack snapped the training lance and tore the sack in two. It was likely the activation of your crest.” 

“I’m sorry!” Jeralt exclaimed. “I’ll clean it up!” 

“It is alright, my son. Yes, we will clean it up, but please don’t fret. This is the true power of the Blaiddyd bloodline. Its maximum potential is unleashed with combat arts such as this.” 

“I can’t believe this. I’ve snapped training lances before, but...I’ve never felt so... _strong_. Such power dwells within?” 

“Yes!” someone cheered behind them. The pair whipped around to see Byleth there with an enthusiastic smile. “My sunshine, you are so strong!” 

Dimitri chuckled as his husband joined them. “How long have you been standing there?” 

“Almost ten minutes.” Byleth wrapped an arm around Jeralt’s shoulders. “You are just like your papa, breaking things at every turn. I’m so proud!” 

“I made a mess…” Jeralt sighed and dropped the broken lance. 

“It’s okay. Seteth told me he hid the Sword of the Creator in the underground. He said he’s going to bring it to me here at the training grounds. I want you to wield it, I want to see if it activates for you as it does for me. I have much to teach you, but we can save that for another time. I just want to confirm this with you. Can we do that?” 

“Of course, Father.”

After a while of leisurely practice, Seteth entered the training grounds. He sighed with a slight smile, the Sword of the Creator in his hands. He walked up to Byleth and presented it, and the awe-struck audience bore into Byleth’s back. Byleth nodded his head as a thanks and took it hand. 

“It was in a quiet, clandestine, and cramped place. It was nowhere of note, so I just retrieved it for you while you were in a meeting today,” Seteth said. He stepped back and crossed his arms with a satisfied expression. “Things are starting to return to as they should be.” 

“Thank you for keeping this safe all these years, Seteth,” Byleth said. 

“Of course. It is a powerful relic. It was important to keep it out of the reach of our enemies.” 

With a few steps, Byleth unleashed the sword’s true power. It extended, it’s whip-like qualities on display for everyone to see. He swung. It curled and hooked around invisible enemies in the air, the glow bright against his black clothing. He retracted it with a satisfied sigh. He turned to Jeralt. 

“You possess the Crest of Flames,” he said. “You can wield this relic also. Please, give it a try. Don’t be nervous, you can’t break it.” 

Jeralt took the relic in his hands. He gripped the hilt and turned it around to view its intricate, jagged edges. The sword still glowed, much to the surprise of their audience. He extended it outward as if another appendage of his, and the whip extended. He swung as he normally would, the sword his other arm. He sliced a remaining, upright piece of the previously destroyed pole. It singed at the edges and crumbled to the ground. He turned around to his family, and saw three approving stares. 

“Excellent, Jeralt,” Dimitri praised. “You can wield our relics just as we thought.” 

“I still have much to learn,” Jeralt replied. 

“Of course. But you are already skilled in your own right. Keep that in mind.” 

Byleth nodded. “We’ve devised a three month plan for raising a resistance army. It will be spent gathering supplies, funds, and training our soldiers. We’ve decided to structure it much like an officer’s academy, so we may gather and instill our fighters with as much knowledge as we can before we wage war against Those Who Slither in the Dark. We will be holding seminars Monday thru Saturday, and Sunday is left as a rest and prayer day. Is this okay with you, Jeralt?” 

“Yes. I have no objections to anything you decide.” Jeralt nodded. “I’m prepared to work the hardest I can.” 

“Thank you. We’ll all work our hardest. We’re in this together. To ensure better days for us all, let’s do our best.” 

After a while, the crowds dispersed. The family continued to talk in the training grounds until they returned to their quarters together. The long road was ahead. It made Jeralt a bit uneasy, being noticed and watched with eyes of scrutiny. His days of being a nameless guard were over. It was time to help bring in a new era, an era that belonged to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Church of Seiros once again. 


	28. Love and Suffering

The candle light flickered in the former royal couple's small room. Byleth sighed and chewed on herbs given to him by Manuela as he watched his husband undress. Everything was quiet and surreal in the lull of a long day. His eyes skirted away when Dimitri was temporarily bare in between outfits. Byleth blushed, remembering Manuela’s earlier warnings. Despite his mind’s reaction, his body was too exhausted to do anything other than sleep. 

Dimitri soon joined after changing into his nightclothes. He scratched the nape of Byleth’s neck, running fingers through the strands of hair there. Byleth hummed and swallowed his herbs. 

“Do you still feel the way you did all those years ago?” he mused aloud. 

“About what, beloved?” Dimitri asked, his hand skating along his husband’s back. 

“In the Goddess Tower during the ball, you said something about how when people reach out their hand to the Goddess, the Goddess doesn’t reach back. She only watches.” 

“No. I admit, my mind has been changed.” 

“How so?” 

“You are the essence of the Goddess. You reached out your hand to me and guided me back into the light. Not only that, but her power saved us from death all those years ago. It came at a cost, but I am happy to be here now, to be with you and our son. Not only that, my bloodline has mixed with the holy one. I cannot in good faith say she turns an eye to our troubles. That is far from the truth.”

“I suppose you are right.” Byleth paused, his brow furrowed. “Dimitri, is it possible I am the Goddess’ answer to the people’s prayers?”

“I think so. You represent her and the faith.” 

“Such a role. And yet, I find myself putting other things first. I feel like a fool, like an arrogant and selfish man.” 

Dimitri tilted his head with surprise. “Why, Byleth?” 

“I...sometimes I think I just want to fight so my husband and son can have their throne back. I get angry knowing how difficult it was for you to return to your kingdom, only to have it snatched from you. Of course, it angers me that the church was stolen too, but...my attachments on this Earth are more to you and our son than anything else.” 

“Knowing that you are angered on my behalf is an odd thought, I admit.” 

“Only because I love you with everything I am. I’ve never been much more than a blank slate, a stoic demon cutting my foes down. Much of my life, even now, was spent as a mercenary. Only when I met you did I learn to show my emotions. You taught me how to show my joy, my grief, my anger, my love, my forgiveness. Now I’m more than just a _something_ . I’m a _someone.”_

“Byleth, our whole academy contributed to your change, not just me.”

“Yes, that is true. But you were most influential. You came to me when I was grieving in my father’s office. You told me it was alright for me to grieve, you covered for me when I neglected my duties. You even let me rest in your arms and we swore never to speak of it to anyone.” 

It was quiet. Dimitri was thrown into decades prior, to his younger days as a prince and a student. Jeralt’s death had been the first event that jarred him to the core, as it uncovered years of his torment. It was also the first time he had seen Byleth suffer, and unable to contain his empathy, Dimitri sought him out over and over. Even though it had been scandalous at the time, Dimitri had forgotten all about it. 

_“Professor,”_ Dimitri said with a frown. He stood next to the bookshelf in Jeralt’s office. “It is alright to grieve outwardly, even if you wish for no one to see.” 

Byleth twitched, his throat closed. He patted his dark hair and glanced away. “I’m alright. If you will, please tell the others I’m just...cleaning out my father’s things.”

“But you are not, Professor. You have been staring at the wall for the past hour, not so much as blinking.”

“I--I tried to save him…”

“I know. I am sorry there was not more I could do.” Dimitri furrowed his brow and glanced at the closed door. “Professor, please. It is not healthy to keep it bottled up.” 

“I failed…” Byleth mumbled. He dug his palm into his eye. “I failed him and now he’s gone.” 

Dimitri startled when Byleth fell to his knees. He didn’t cry, but his pain was still evident in his eyes. It sent the prince into a frenzy, and he couldn’t hold decorum and standards higher than his worry. He rushed forward, wrapping his professor in an embrace. Two arms wrapped around his torso, Byleth resting his head on his abdomen. It stayed this way for a moment until Dimitri slid onto his knees and hugged him again. 

“One day, you will stand again,” he said. “When you do, I will be here waiting for you.” 

“I won’t,” Byleth mumbled into his cape. “This pain is unbearable.” 

“I know. But, even so, a day will come where you can stand on your own. I promise.” 

“Thank you. Please, never speak of this to anyone.” 

_“Understood.”_

The memory faded as the candle was brought from the dresser to the nightstand. Byleth set it down and crawled into bed, beckoning Dimitri to follow. They stared at the flicker of the flames on the ceiling. A long sigh left Byleth’s lips. 

“That day you let me rest in your arms, I learned how nice it felt to have somewhere to belong,” he said. “I never allowed myself to feel anything toward you before the war. I thought you cared because you were being kind to your professor, but...when I saw you years later, when you had lost yourself, I knew that wasn’t the only reason.” 

Dimitri raised his brows. “When did you start having feelings for me, Byleth?” 

“Right after the battle to protect Garreg Mach from Imperial forces in 1185. We had just reunited a few weeks prior, and during the battle, even in your beastly state, you protected me. You panicked when Randolph targeted me, and pushed me into the ground to shield my body. That’s when I knew the person that gave me a place to rest was still in there somewhere. I then realized I wanted him for myself.” 

“I see. I am sorry I kept you waiting, because I always felt the same, even as a wretch.” 

“No. It was a necessary hardship, what we went through during the war. Your arms have always been my place to rest, Dimitri. I need nothing more. Because of that, I want the best for you. And I know that means you being king. Dedue was right about you, you're too kind to be king. But that’s precisely why you _must_ be. A world free of oppression is a world under your rule.” 

“Such stark words. I will do my best to live up to them...” Dimitri sighed. He blushed and closed his eye. “At least I know when you truly started having feelings for me. I admit, it was much sooner than I thought. I thought perhaps it was around our invasion of Enbarr…” 

Byleth smiled, his cheeks warm. He thought about holding back, but with so much change, it didn’t seem to matter. “During the war, after a long day, I would daydream at night before falling asleep. I would play out this vision of us being married. It was just a dream to me. Because of my anatomy I thought, even if you cared about me, once you learned, you wouldn’t want me. But, in my hopes, I even envisioned what it would be like for us to start a family, for me to carry your child.”

“I am glad I made your wish come true…” Dimitri smiled, patting Byleth’s thigh. 

“Dimitri...I know it must be selfish, but I am driven to fight for my family more than anything. I have another wish I would like for you to help make a reality.” 

“What is it?” 

“I want to coronate you a second time. When we bring Faerghus back, you will need to be reinstated as king by the archbishop. Allow me to put the crown back where it belongs. I want to bring forth the second reign of the Savior King.” 

A deep red bloomed over Dimitri’s face. His heart quickened at the thought. “I will do what I can to make your wish come true.” 

“Thank you.” 

**-0-**

The classroom space was empty when Byleth arrived. He sighed and brushed his clothing, the professor’s outfit from so many years prior. It was one of the few outfits he owned, the opportunity to buy more not yet presenting itself. Even so, circumstances were throwing him for a loop. Nostalgia of being a professor returned, and he drowned in it. With his notes idle on the desk, he spaced into a place deep within his mind, recalling his days teaching at the academy. His vision fuzzed, and the vague silhouette of Dimitri in his academy days stood before him. 

“Hello, Father,” Jeralt said with a small smile. 

Byleth blinked, coming out of his recollection. He sighed with a light expression. “You look just like Dimitri…” he mused. 

“I wanted to see if you needed help preparing for your seminar. I’ve always wished for this, it would be a lie for me to deny how excited I am to learn from you.”

“I’m delighted to teach you, my child. This is what I always hoped for. I’m sorry it took me so long…” He sighed and shuffled his papers. “There’s no changing that now, I suppose. Though, I would love to set up the lecture with you. Before I begin to lecture on my father’s mercenary fighting style, I always do a preliminary overview of basics. Things like terrain fighting, combat arts, the weapons triangle, for example. I have a tactical grid I use to demonstrate.”

“I draw tactical grids all the time. I can set it up on the chalkboard.” 

Papers shuffled as Jeralt took a rough sketch and began to mimic it on the board. After a few minutes of rhythmic drawing, the chalk was set down. Byleth admired his son’s work and leaned against the desk with his arms crossed. 

“Excellent work. You draw these lines better than I can,” he praised. 

Jeralt flushed. “It’s nothing.” 

There was a pause. Byleth bit his lip, nervous about what the future may hold. “Jeralt,” he said, “we’re not pressuring you into anything, are we?” 

“What do you mean, Father?” 

“We uprooted your life so fast. Everyone in your life knows what it was like to live in this land before the Church of Zahras. They all remember the reign of King Dimitri, and that’s why they choose to fight back. However, you never knew such a thing, yet you followed us. I hope we’re not throwing you into something because the alternative would be leaving you alone.” 

Jeralt shook his head. “I _chose_ this, Father,” he insisted. “Uncle Seteth instilled the teachings of the Goddess within me at a very young age. He made it clear once I was older that my own parent was the progenitor god, and what that meant. He also made sure I understood that meant I carried the essence of the Goddess too. 

“To know I cannot be open with my heritage, with my faith and blood, angers me. Why should I stay under the thumb of an Empress that tried to kill me?” 

Byleth’s eyes widened, taken off-guard by the vehemence in his son’s answers. “This Empress, Audrina, is Edelgard’s daughter.” 

“I understand. I don’t care who she is. She tried to kill you when you were pregnant. I understand she was just a child at the time, conditioned by the influences of bad people, but…” Jeralt huffed and shook his head. “If she knew I’m alive, that sentiment would not change. She would still have me executed. Because she hasn’t changed her perspective on the matter, because she can’t leave my family and I be, is why I will fight her.” 

“Those who slither in the dark are the ones pulling the strings.” 

“Yes, Uncle Seteth has explained as much to me. However, Audrina has done much to demonize Faerghus in the few years she has ruled. She has had former soldiers and knights of Faerghus arrested, causing many of them to flee into Abyss with the help of Uncle Felix and Sylvain. She says the _King of Delusions_ murdered her mother and father. And...I can’t even bear to stay the things she’s called you outloud.” 

Curiosity got the better of Byleth, and he couldn’t help but seek out the information. It would only torment him, yet so would not knowing. It was a double-edged sword, and he chose which side would slice him in half with a simple question. 

“What sort of things has she said about me?” 

Jeralt flushed. He twisted his hands together and stared at the floor. “Well...Gah, Father…” 

“It’s alright. If it’s that uncomfortable, I won’t force you to speak it. I don’t want to cause you discomfort.” 

“No, it’s about you, you deserve to know.” He leaned closer to whisper. “She’s printed propaganda calling you the... _Delusional King’s Whore_.” 

Byleth gasped and turned around, his skin aflame. He clenched his fists. “I’m...sorry you had to read that, Jeralt…” 

“Father, you had nothing to do with it. There’s no need to apologize. What she’s done is vile. At least people know it’s not true, and reject her attempts to smear you. However, the commonfolk aren’t strong enough to oppose her and those who slither in the dark. We are.” 

“Yes, this is true. I will always support you, Jeralt. I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I find that matters not. You’re my son, and will respect your autonomy to choose the best path for yourself. So, please tell me if we ever do something you don’t abide by. Please don’t feel the need to get revenge for your parents, or for what happened to me before your birth.” 

Jeralt shook his head. He grabbed Byleth’s hand and cupped it within both of his. They looked each other in the eyes. “Father, please believe me when I tell you I’m fighting for myself and my ideals just as much as I’m fighting for you. We have more in common than you think. I can’t fully be myself in this world. I can’t follow the scripture of the Goddess. I have to hide myself away. I want to be free, so I will fight by your side.” 

“I see. I respect your decision, my child. Thank you for joining us.” 

“No, Father, thank you. You gave me the courage to fight back.” 

**-0-**

After giving a lengthy seminar on his father’s fighting style, Byleth was drained. He took dinner with his family, then browsed the library for a book to read. There was a plethora of books on esoteric magic, and his fingers clawed them into a pile snug in his elbow. After piling a few extra random volumes on top, he carried them back to his quarters. They would be following a steady routine for the coming months, which would give him the opportunity to indulge in many books. Once in his quarters, he began to dig into them. 

Dimitri yawned after leaving the bath. It had been a long, but productive day. He was overjoyed at being able to attend one of Byleth’s lectures, taking notes just like he had in the old days. What made the experience all the more thrilling was being able to share it with his son next to him. It was joy that he only just discovered, given so many experiences were stolen from him. He sighed. He wished he could’ve seen Jeralt’s first steps, taught him how to wield a lance, and taken him on long horse rides though the kingdom’s countryside. The thoughts were pushed away, but they kept coming back. Dimitri opened the door to his quarters with a sigh. 

Soft sniffles echoed in the room. Dimitri caught Byleth wipe his eyes with a book in hand as he sat on the bed. The room was quiet as Dimitri approached and joined his husband. 

“Is everything alright, Byleth?” 

Byleth sighed and swiped his cheek again. “Jeralt explained what Audrina’s rule has been like. He said there was propaganda written about us. I found it…” 

The book was handed to the former king. Dimitri took it in hand, the paperback thin. He flipped it open as his husband sniffled again, his eyes glossed. The words were large and demanding of attention as Dimitri read:

_The now-destroyed Kingdom of Faerghus committed heinous acts toward our great Empress Audrina. During her youth, the archbishop forced her to live at the monastery dedicated to the false goddess Sothis. While there, our great empress was tortured and treated poorly by those in charge there. The pain was so great, Empress Audrina grew desperate, and tried to kill the archbishop to free her from her captors. She was rescued by the Church of Zahras._

_The King of Delusions, Dimitri, was a wretch. He slaughtered men, women and children, including regicide against his own uncle. He escaped punishment with the help of a fellow wretch like him and disappeared into obscurity for a number of years. He reappeared to fight the empire. It was then he committed the most heinous act of all: killing our great empress’ parents and robbing her of her happiness._

_He married a fellow wretch, Byleth, who then became the symbol of the false goddess. Byleth was a liar and a fiend, hiding from the people the true extent of his power. With the ability to conceive, he whored himself out to the delusional king and became pregnant. He hid this, for he was not only not truly a man, but he was nurturing a parasite within him. Empress Audrina herself witnessed this_ **_being_ ** _heavy and swollen with a leech. Such grotesqueness is what the Church of Zahras saved us from when they shot Javelins of Light from the sky, purifying the land. It was then the King of Delusions, his whore, and their parasite were wiped from the Earth._

For the first time in many years, Dimitri’s vision blurred red. He turned and saw Byleth weeping, his arms curled in on himself. With torment consuming him, he dropped to his knees on the floor, his gasps filling the silence. Dimitri watched, still sitting on the bed. 

Anger snapped with him, and the book was crushed in his fist. He tossed it, and the crumbled mess of its remains hit the wall and bounced underneath the bed. Vengeance and maniacal tendencies cried out for him to act with brutality, and he tried his best to swallow it down. His husband’s cries settled his fury for the time being, redirecting his focus. He joined him on the floor. 

“Byleth, why did you read that?” he asked softly. Hands rubbed across Byleth’s shoulders in an effort to soothe. Byleth crawled into his lap and clung to his shoulders with both hands. 

“I don’t know…” he mumbled, tears still falling. His forehead nestled into the crook of Dimitri’s neck. “I...wanted to know what we’re up against.” 

“Well...you know now. Don’t seek those things out again.” 

“Sorry…” 

Dimitri sighed and rocked them, shushing him slightly. “No need. Those things aren’t true, you know that.” 

“This whole situation is so painful to me…” 

“I know it is difficult. We are going to fight back. You don’t have pain yourself by reading these awful things.” 

The crying continued, and it nearly sent Dimitri into a frenzy. He couldn’t stand to see Byleth in so much pain, it chiseled at his core. Part of him wanted to stab the chests of those responsible for causing his husband to suffer, but he held it back. Byleth needed him first and foremost. 

“I can see something now that I could not before,” Dimitri said, breaking the silence. “I am your crutch.” 

“I need you.”

“I know, beloved. I know. But, one day, you will find the strength to stand on your own.”

Byleth shook his head against Dimitri’s shoulder. His breath hitched. “Don’t make me stand on my own, Dimitri…” 

“I am not saying I will leave you. I am saying that one day, you will find the strength to stand without leaning on me.” 

“I don’t have the strength. Without you, I’m nothing.” 

“You weren’t always that way, Byleth. You were a mercenary for most of your life, you had no crutch then.” 

“That’s because I didn’t have emotions then. I do now.” 

It was quiet as Dimitri rubbed his husband’s shoulders. He exhaled slowly. “I know emotions can be so painful. We both struggle. If we are destined to struggle, we shall do so together.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You know you can squeeze my hand whenever you are in pain. It won’t hurt me.” 

A hand found its way to Dimitri’s and wrapped around it. His hand was squeezed with a force of great intensity, and it brought back a sudden rush of images and voices into his mind. A memory from decades prior appeared as though it happened months prior, and to the couple, it felt that way. It was brutal, especially when they both experienced residual feelings from events long since passed. 

The squeeze tightened and loosened as if the pulse of a heartbeat. Dimitri followed its rhythm and got lost in yesteryear. 

_Squeeze my hand, beloved,_ Dimitri’s past self repeated in his mind. _Our child is almost here._

 _Ah...damn..._ Byleth mumbled, still quiet in his suffering. _It burns like flames._

_I am so sorry, beloved. Just push a little more. We can see the child’s head._

Dimitri blinked when the squeezing stopped. Byleth was lulling against him, his strained eyes closed. He was soon moved to the bed and tucked in, his husband joining. An odd sense of guilt mixed with the memories in Dimitri’s head. The more he saw the suffering of his family, and their missed years, the more intense it became. He wanted to atone, but wasn’t sure how. 

“Byleth?” 

“Yes, my love?” Byleth said with a hum. He curled against Dimitri’s chest and was welcomed into his arms. 

“I am sorry I have caused you pain.”

“What do you mean? You’ve never caused me pain.” 

Dimitri furrowed his brow. “That is not true. When you gave birth to my child, it…was excruciating pain. I am sorry.” 

An exhale from Byleth’s lips brushed along Dimitri’s skin. He readjusted, one hand rubbing the cheek just below the eyepatch. “Dimitri, you blame yourself for the oddest things.” 

“But it _was_ painful. And I contributed to it.” 

“Shhh….” Byleth pressed a finger to Dimitri’s lip. “That is just a part of nature, my love. Sometimes we must endure the pain to reach new heights. Over the years, I’ve learned that doves are often accompanied by flames. Anything that is worth loving is worth suffering for.” 

“Byleth…” Dimitri swallowed tears at hearing such heartfelt words. “Perhaps you are right.” 

“Don’t blame yourself. Any pain I’ve endured for my family is worth the sacrifice.” 

“I feel the same.” 

The conversation lulled. The candle was blown out and the room went dark as the couple closed their eyes. Rhythmic breathing set in, and after a while, a soft voice cut through the darkness. 

“Hey, Dimitri.” 

“Yes, my beloved?” 

“Do you honestly still find me attractive? You watched me give birth pretty intently now that I think about it.” 

“What does “pretty intently” mean?”

Byleth sighed and danced fingers along Dimitri’s chest. “You told me how close the child was to being born, and kept encouraging me to push. You were _staring_ at the process. Husbands usually aren’t even allowed in the room, and yet you acted like a second midwife.”

“Oh, well...I suppose…” Dimitri replied with a blush. 

“That didn’t change how you see me at all? You still _want_ to touch me after that? Or are you just making love to me because I’m your spouse and you feel you must? Not to mention my hips got a little wider, not that anyone else but you would be able to notice.”

“Honestly, Byleth, it had no impact on how attractive I think you are. I still want you in every way. And...wider hips just give me more to hold on to. My hands aren’t the smallest, you know.” 

Byleth huffed with exasperation, flustered by what he heard. “Ugh, you are so naughty. I could smack your head clean off.” 

Soft chuckles filled the room. “I admit, I find you just as beautiful, if not moreso, as I did the first day I met you.” 

“Excuse me?” Byleth retorted with playful disapproval. “Are you trying to say you were crushing on the random mercenary that helped save you from getting axed by some brigands? In the middle of a battle?”

“W-Well, not to say _during_ the battle, but perhaps... _after_ the battle? When I got a good look at your face, _perhaps_ , I had the fleeting thought that your strength was admirable and...attractive…”

A grunt from the former king accompanied a soft smack to the cheek. The sheets rustled as Byleth readjusted, his head snung on a pillow and his arms and legs tangled with his husband’s. “Bad boy.” 

“You are the only person that can get away with calling me that,” Dimitri said with a laugh. 

“I accept my sunshine as your atonement for crushing on me inappropriately for a very long time.” 

“So by your logic, if I keep crushing on you inappropriately, I may atone again by giving you another sunshine? Perhaps atoning is more enjoyable than I thought.” 

“Dimitri!” Byleth exclaimed. “I’m going to beat you.” 

The couple laughed together. There was once a time Dimitri got dangerously close to teasing his professor, yet now those days were long gone. He could tease as much as wanted. It was a warming feeling that was motivated by more than just personal amusement. He’d do anything to see his husband’s smile, or hear his laugh and playfulness. Hearing those things meant there was reprieve from their struggles and their suffering. 


	29. True Lineage

Three months passed of vigorous training, preparation, and dedication. Jeralt had once missed the sunlight, but now it intimidated him to think he would soon reemerge into it. His place as Dimitri’s son elevated his standing in the community, and while there was no throne to claim, his lineage still turned heads. The right hand of his father was where he often stood, and his voice became one of many mingling at the tactics table. When not discussing, he was training with one of his many family members, often getting bruises that needed healing by Flayn or Manuela. Despite that, he had grown stronger than ever before. The awe of possessing two crests naturally was the attention-grabber of many in the community. It was still intimidating, though he wouldn’t admit it. 

Byleth reprised the role of archbishop, setting up a de facto Church of Seiros in the underground with the help of Seteth and Rhea. They led the people in faith, revitalizing reverence in the Goddess and bringing her essence to the people. It raised morale, offered hope, and enticed many to pick up arms and train. When not leading worshippers, he gave advanced seminars on his father’s unconventional, yet highly effective, fighting style. 

Dimitri rallied the former citizens of Faerghus as a general. He insisted that he was no longer a king, and while he couldn’t stop them from calling him _Your Majesty_ , it wasn’t entirely true. Telling the people he was willing to fight with them to have the honor of serving as their king again caused many a cheer. With the help of his closest friends and comrades, he formed battalions, shuffled and reshuffled troops, and conducted mock battles with the newest infantry. Dedue insisted on the formation of a new royal guard, much to Dimitri’s dismay. However, he eventually relented, and hand-picked the finest lance wielders to serve at his side. 

The time to declare war on the Church of Zahras was fast approaching. Word came through spies that those who slither in the dark were suspicious of an influx of people traveling to Garreg Mach, and were sending soldiers to investigate. There was always the possibility a rat was in the walls, so the effort to mobilize needed to strengthen faster than ever before. The top members of the effort were called council one morning. 

“How much longer until we are ready to move our troops above ground?” Byleth asked once the meeting began. 

“The last of the rations should arrive in about a week, Your Grace,” Dedue said.

“Good. We need to begin our mobilization for departure. We’ve discussed extensively what our first plan of attack will be after we declare war. We are going to run through this plan one more time to streamline it. Jeralt, will you show us the tactical map?” 

Jeralt nodded, and his father smiled proudly in return. Vigorous study over the past few months had strengthened his skills and allowed new ones to blossom. During most council meetings, he drew the maps on the chalkboard and edited it as members discussed possible strategies. The smiles his parents gave him were often discussed and admired among the commoners in the underground. Not everyone was convinced of his power, or his true heritage. Jeralt still intended to prove it to them with his ability. He stood next to the map of the continent and began to explain their plans. 

“The war council has decided that our best course of action will be to establish a stronghold somewhere in Fódlan. Because the goal of this army is to reestablish the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, Fhirdiad has become the army’s first target once war is declared. Once Fhirdiad is taken, it will be used as a base, and will be established as the capital of a reborn Faerghus. Afterward, the liberation of cities and towns from those who slither in the dark will start with the places closest to the capital and fan outward.

“Margrave Gautier and Duke Fraldarious are with the resistance, and are allowing our army to cut through their territories to reach our destination. This will make the journey easier. Garreg Mach as a township has little military force, and would be easy to conquer, given we’re right below them. However, with its central location, the enemy’s army will be able to continually attack us with ease. Fhirdiad is far to the North, and takes longer to get to from Enbarr, the current capital. With Fhirdiad as our base, the frigid cold and the openness of the Tailtean Plains will give us offensive terrain to drive enemies back should they attempt to invade.”

“Yes, this is precisely our strategy at present. Thank you, my son,” Dimitri interjected. “We will also be using the Valley of Torment to pass quickly into former Kingdom territory. Any objections or suggestions?” 

No one answered. Seteth nodded and added to the discussion. “Since this is a joint effort between former members of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the Church of Seiros, we have decided to merge our representation into a single, unified banner under a resistance army. The Crest of Flames will adorn our battle flags. This Crest not only represents the archbishop and the church’s history, but the Royal House of Blaiddyd’s bloodline, given a Blaiddyd heir now possesses it. Any objections or comments?” 

“No objections,” a knight said, “but one comment. What commonfolk gossip about aside, what are the origins of this Blaiddyd heir?” 

Flayn furrowed her brows in disapproval. “Look into Jeralt’s eyes and it is clear as day,” she said. “He is the son of the archbishop and the king.” 

“I possess the Crest of Flames and the Crest of Blaiddyd, as I inherited one from each parent,” Jeralt interjected. “They were passed to me through blood.” 

The knight shook their head. “Do you mean to say you got the Crest of Flames injected into you through blood reconstruction surgery?” 

“No, I--” 

“I gave birth to Jeralt on the 16th Day of the Ethereal Moon, 1186,” Byleth said, his voice cutting through the conversation, calm and collected. _“Naturally.”_

“How so? Aren’t you a man?” the knight asked. 

Dimitri clenched his fists underneath the table, his gaze stern. “Jeralt Eisner Blaiddyd is my heir, Byleth and I are his parents by blood. That--That is _all_ there is to it.” 

“So there _was_ blood reconstruction surgery involved to mix the archbishop and the king’s bloodlines,” another high-ranking soldier said. “That is the only way to have someone possess double-crests.” 

“Your Majesty, did you or did you not do something as heinous as that surgery to your own flesh and blood?” the knight questioned. “If so, are you and the archbishop any better than the Church of Zahras?” 

Before Dimitri could lose his temper, Byleth spoke. “We did _not_ engage in something as heinous as that. I understand you wish for an answer, but perhaps you should choose how you tone your questions so that they don't come across as accusatory.”

“Are you sure?” the soldier said. “He looks nothing like you. Or are you just covering for a commoner maiden that gave birth to the heir?” 

“That’s enough!” Jeralt exclaimed. “We’re here to liberate the oppressed. My lineage doesn’t matter, we need to save the weak from being trampled by the strong.” 

“It matters, _Your Highness_ , because your _parents_ are obviously hiding something. We can’t throw our lives down for them without knowing the truth.” 

“Why aren’t you fighting for what you believe in instead of for someone else?” 

“We put our faith in them for _years_. We want answers for why they’re manipulating crests with some esoteric method.” 

Unease and agitation bubbled in Byleth’s chest, pressing against his still heart. He had tried his best to avoid rumors and gossip for months regarding his family and son. His efforts had been placed in the teachings of the goddess and the army, not convincing the world he gave birth. During that time of ignoring, it seemed the gossip had spiraled out of control. People now thought he had manipulated his own son’s blood through torturous methods. It was accusatory and chipping away at him. He glanced at Dimitri, surprised his husband hadn’t yet lost his cool. 

“Well, Your Grace?” the soldier said. 

Byleth snapped. He slammed his hands on his papers, and a few of them crinkled. He bit back tears of frustration as his usual grace slipped entirely. 

“You are both dismissed. _Permanently,”_ Dimitri quickly said, his tone low and stern. “I will not tolerate this disrespect toward myself and my family. _Get out_.” 

“Why is it so damn hard for people to believe I had a son!?” Byleth exclaimed before anyone could move. The knight and soldier were stunned into their seats at the vehemence of his tone. 

“You want to know what I’m hiding?” he continued. “You want to know how I did it? It’s really damn simple.” His finger pointed at himself, then at Dimitri. “I have a vagina, Dimitri has a penis. We fucked and I got pregnant. I carried the child for nine months, then I _pushed_ him out of me.” 

Byleth threw out his arm in Jeralt’s direction, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And, look, _there he is._ ” He huffed and stood, pushing his papers across the longtable. “I’m not sure what the hell else you people want from me! Is that enough!? Or do I need to strip naked to prove it? I’ve heard this conjecture for months, _I’ve_ had _enough_. 

I lost all my time with my son. He’s twenty and I’ve only spent six months with him total. You don’t even understand how _guilty_ I feel, how _broken_ my heart is. I lost everything and now I have to fight to _get back_ what I can never truly _have back_ : my life raising my son. And do you want to know why I feel this way? Because I fucking gave birth to him!” 

The door slammed. The room was quiet, no soul daring to move. Dimitri stared at the map, too shocked to redden at the verbage Byleth used or the way he delivered it. With his mouth slightly agape, his mind went blank. Several minutes passed of pure silence, as if time had frozen when the door closed. 

Felix was the first to speak. “You two pissed off the one person that is _impossible_ to piss off,” he sneered. “You should be ashamed, disrespecting the _progenitor god_ like that. Neither of you have a place in this army. Leave. _Now_. And put your swords down your throats before I do it for you.” 

The two responsible for the uproar shuffled out. Sylvain leaned back with a long exhale. “Wow. I’m so damn proud of Byleth,” he said with a slight smile. “He told them off good. Didn’t mince words. I like it.” 

“That is not like him, though,” Flayn said with a frown. “What compelled him to speak in such a way?” 

Seteth sighed and furrowed his brows. “Everyone has a tipping point, Flayn. I understand his pain, I have felt it before. As a parent, it is torture to have someone accuse you, to act as though they have a moral high ground when it comes to your own flesh and blood. Especially when there is guilt involved. Others have said accusatory things about you over the years, and I have also reacted viscerally to them. Such is the way of parenthood.” 

A chair scratched across the stone floor as Dimitri stood. “My apologies. I am going to find him. We shall...meet again to finish the council soon.” 

**-0-**

On a bridge, overlooking the chasm delving deep into the Earth, a waterfall cascaded nearby. Dimitri walked, exhaling relief as he came upon his husband overlooking the edge. Byleth’s hair shone in the darkness, his body still clad in his black professor’s uniform. Dimitri joined his side, and was silent for the first few minutes they stood side-by-side. The waterfall’s sounds filled the silence. 

“Byleth…” 

“Go away.” 

The words stunned Dimitri, and he was unable to respond. It took him back to his boarish days, the months spent before the rubble, drowning in the voices of the dead. Days and days went by where he scarcely turned around, his back against the world. The darkest days of his life were spent there, lost in the debris of his torment. Even though Dimitri demanded it, Byleth never left his side. He even threatened to have his guards remove him, and yet those words were fruitless and without meaning. Byleth’s were the same. He may have said it, but he didn’t mean it. 

_“Go away,” Dimitri’s boarish self sneered. Byleth ignored him, clasping his hands together in front of the destroyed altar in Garreg Mach’s cathedral._

_“No, Dimitri,” he replied. “I’m praying to the Goddess. I’m praying for you.”_

_Dimitri’s eye widened. “Hmph.”_

Tears filled Dimitri’s eye before he swallowed them. He didn’t want to see Byleth walk the dark, tortuous road. Anything that had to be done to prevent it, Dimitri was willing to do. His husband was too precious to him, not as a war general and follower of the faith, but as a man. 

A hand wrapped around Dimitri’s, and it startled him. It squeezed, and the message was clear. He held onto it, rubbing his gloved thumb across Byleth’s, no words needed between them. After some time of stillness, Byleth sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m mortified by my behavior.”

Dimitri frowned. “You said nothing untrue, though your verbiage was a bit... _unconventional_ …” 

“I have no issue with citizens criticizing my reformation or leadership in the army or the church. But, to cut into the core of my family, to...suggest I never gave birth to my son…” 

“I know, my beloved. It is painful. I don’t like people suggesting that either, considering everything you went through before and after our son was born. To have it suggested I had a child with someone that was not you...I despise it.” 

“Yes, but you handled it better than me. Which I’m surprised at, I’ll admit…” Byleth exhaled and gazed at the waterfall. “I will win back Fhirdiad for the one, true king. But then…” 

“What are you thinking?” 

“Will Jeralt’s lineage still be contested? I don’t want this burden on him. He’s our heir, the future king if we manage to restore Faerghus. I hate this feeling. If my foolish actions twenty years ago had anything to do with this, I--” 

“Byleth, none of this is your fault,” Dimitri said softly. 

“I just wish I had been honest with the people. If I would’ve just shown them my true self, then perhaps things would be different.” 

“We all have things we regret. I will not fault you for wishing you had chosen a different path, I do this myself often. Just know that I supported your wish for privacy during your pregnancy, and I find, even today, I don’t regret that.” 

Byleth bit his lip and reached out his arms. He was engulfed in a comforting embrace, his head finding a place to rest. “Sometimes I think the rumors won’t end unless I get pregnant again, which...I don’t want to do.” 

“We don’t have to go to such extremes. They will accept our family in due time. Though, I hope…” Dimitri exhaled, his words tangled on his tongue. “I just wished we could’ve had the life I often teased you about. The life where I held our child in my arms, you next to me, rounded with another. I took such a simple future with my family for granted. To think I told my soldiers in Enbarr we had to protect the present, because it is all we truly have. Somehow... I forgot that notion.” 

“We won’t now. Let’s fight to free the weak and defenseless, my savior king. I’m at your side.” 

“Of course.” Dimitri leaned forward and gave him a short kiss. “Thank you.”

**-0-**

The lines blurred on the paper as Jeralt lost his focus over and over again. He was alone in the war council room. His parents were on his mind, the earlier meeting gone awry still at the forefront of his thoughts. With how fast things were changing, Jeralt didn’t often stop to think about how his parents might be feeling about their sudden shift in purpose. He was happy to finally be with them, against all odds. Part of him felt guilty at not being more conscious of their struggles. 

_You don’t even understand how guilty I feel, how broken my heart is._

Jeralt winced at his father’s words. The pain was clear in his tone. He wanted to help his parents, to support them as family, but didn’t know how. His pencil tapped on the table as he tried to focus on tactics. The door opened, and Sylvain appeared on the other side. 

“Hey, kid,” he said, “Felix wants to spar with you.” 

“Oh, alright. I’ll make my way there…” Jeralt nodded and collected his papers. 

“You okay?” 

‘Of course, Uncle.”

Sylvain crossed his arms with a light chuckle. “You’re not embarrassed about what your father said, are you? You shouldn’t be. I taught you about how babies are made.” 

_“Uncle!”_ Jeralt exclaimed, his cheeks red. He exhaled. “I’m not embarrassed. I just worry about my parents.”

“Me too. They always put everything on the line for other people. I just want them to enjoy you as they should. They missed so much time with you, it’s kinda hard to imagine. I mean, _I’ve_ spent more time with you than Dimitri. It’s not how things should’ve been.” 

“I don’t know how to help them, and I want to.” 

Sylvain pat Jeralt on the shoulder. “I think the best thing for you to do is just be their son. That’s all they want. But, hey, if you wanted to surprise them with a gift or something, I’m sure they would appreciate it.” 

“You’re right. I’ll think of something.” 

**-0-**

Byleth wandered the cobblestone streets of the underground, taking some time to himself after the stresses earlier in the day. He was still mortified by his outburst, but he was more heartbroken than anything. Life was spinning out of control, and it seemed his life was nothing but battles to be fought. The official war declaration was just days away, and his stress was increasing. Eyes watched his every move as he walked through the streets, and his usually, friendly greetings were absent. 

The wanderings lead him to a more residential part of the community. He walked up to a large room with an open door, its sprawl spanning more rooms within it. The sign read: _Sunrise Orphanage_. Without thinking much, he stepped inside. 

As rulers, he and Dimitri had always had a soft spot for orphans. Many of the joint reforms between the kingdom and the church involved betterment for orphaned children and the communities that took care of them. Unfortunately, their plans were never fully brought to fruition before everything fractured. Byleth grimaced. After everything, his own son grew up an orphan himself. It was an odd twist of the knife in Byleth’s mind, the sharpened tip that kept stabbing him over and over. 

The room he had stepped into was nursery. Bassinets lined the walls, about ten total. Not all of them were full, only about two or three. Byleth leaned in and studied the faces of the infants. His heart ached. Part of him, despite all the time he had spent with Jeralt over the months, still yearned for a child in his arms. His chest felt hollow when recalling the days long since gone. 

“Dear child, what are you doing here?” Rhea’s voice reached out to him. 

“Rhea…” Byleth shook his head. “I’m sorry. I suppose curiosity got the better of me.” 

“There is no need to apologize. As you know, I have been helping look after the orphaned children these past months. Were you looking for me?” 

“Perhaps. I’m so troubled, I’m not sure what I’m looking for.” 

“Oh, Byleth. Please, tell me.”

Byleth sighed and clasped his hands together. His eyes floated from child to child, his brows furrowed. “I slept for twenty long years. My son grew up an orphan, I left him when he was three months old. I woke up still thinking about the infant and...the infant was gone.” 

“It is not easy to fall asleep for so long. Us of the holy bloodline know that well. We lose so much that we cannot regain. However, your son is alive and well. Rejoice, he has been protected by the Goddess all this time.” 

“I’m happy to be with him, to get to know him. However, I still feel the pain of wounds that should’ve healed long ago.”

“What are these wounds you speak of?”

Byleth bit his lip and exhaled slow. “I yearn for an infant in my arms. Dimitri doesn’t feel the way I do. He mourns our lost time, but he is able to focus more on our son as he is now. I love my son as he is today, but part of me wants that child back. Now, everything is so convoluted, and people accuse me of lying about my son’s origins. Back then, it was just him and I by the fire, the world far away. Those days are gone.” 

“That does not seem unreasonable. Your instincts are likely still searching for a child, because that is what you were so accustomed to. It’s a bit different for Dimitri, since he wasn’t the one to become pregnant.” 

Tears formed in Byleth’s eyes. “I’m about to march off to war, and yet, I’m still obsessing over events decades ago. I’m trying my best to rid myself of these burdens, because they will interfere with my abilities. Yet, it’s so difficult to move on when everyone is accusing me or gossiping about such a vulnerable part of me.”

Rhea sighed and brushed the tears away as they began to fall. “You must forgive yourself, dear child. The Goddess already has.”

“My heart is broken. I managed to survive what killed my mother, and yet, just as my mother was robbed of me, I was robbed of my son.” 

“The circumstances of surrounding you and your mother are very different, Byleth,” Rhea said softly. She frowned. “Your mother...was my creation. If anyone should take blame for her frailty, it is me. However, that is my burden to bear, not yours. We must honor her sacrifice by returning the progenitor god to the people. Her surrendering herself for you was the first step in bringing the Goddess back to the land.” 

Tension eased when Byleth’s hand was held in a gentle, motherly way. He wiped the rest of his tears away and nodded. “Yes, I agree. The time is almost near. What will you do, Rhea? Stay here and look after the children?” 

“No. I will join you in the fight. Just as I fought Nemesis all those years ago, I will fight these fiends. My body has healed much over my rest, just as yours has. I am prepared to stand by your side on the battlefield.” 

“I respect your decision. We’ll need all the power we can get. However, please be careful, Rhea. I wouldn’t be able to bear losing you.” 

Rhea sighed with a nod. She wrapped him in a loving embrace, as if a mother to a son. “I feel the same about you, dear child. If we stay together, we will prevail.”

**-0-**

The arrangement of gifts on the bed was stealthily done. Jeralt huffed and walked around from his parents’ quarters after dropping things off there. He had taken what Sylvain had said to heart, and tried his best to get his parents gifts that they would appreciate. During the past months, they had diligently trained him in all their knowledge. His growth in magic, both white and dark, and lance and authority skills, had risen beyond what he thought possible. So much knowledge had been bestowed upon him that he felt as if he were a new person. He wanted to show his gratitude. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that both of his parents were nowhere to be found. He wanted to see their faces when they looked at what he had given them, and yet, he also _didn’t_ want to see it. If he had made false judgements about them, the gifts would fall flat. If so, it would be a disaster rivaling the lockup incident. 

Things had gotten busy with the formal war declaration right around the corner. Him and his parents rarely got time to speak alone unlike before, something he had spoiled himself with over the past months. With Felix beckoning him to training grounds for a duel, Jeralt made a sudden decision to dump the gifts and allow them to speak for themselves. 

**-0-**

It was a long day, not that the sun was visible as an indicator. Byleth and Dimiri made their way to the quarters after lingering in the sauna after everyone had gone home. It was a tense day, and muscles need to diffuse the strain. Byleth was refreshed, and expressed as such. Because of that, Dimitri held back that he was feeling more overheated than usual. His cold, Faerghus blood was not easily conquered. 

The door was swung open after the key went in the lock. Byleth snapped his fingers in front of a candle, a quick magic spell illuminating the room. The couples eyes went wide. 

“What is all this?” Dimitri mused. 

Byleth walked over to the bed and took a small, wooden box in his hands. The Crest of Flames was carved in the top, and the henges slightly creaked as it opened. Within was a regal golden circlet, jewels of amethyst and citrine lining the fanciful design. He flushed and held the delicate adornment in his hands. 

“Oh, my,” he said as he inspected it, “this is beautiful.” 

Meanwhile, Dimitri held the grip of a medium-sized sword in his hand. The silver caught the light as he twisted it, detailed pattern work through the blade. A modest blue cloth bearing the symbol of Faerghus was wrapped around the hilt. 

“This is a sword from the legendary swordsmith Zoltan!” Dimitri exclaimed. “Where did this come from?” 

An envelope made its way into Byleth’s hands. It was turned so the front was hidden, and he didn’t think to turn it around before thumbing it open. He pulled the letter within and began to read;

_Father, Papa,_

_I’ve been searching around for you but you seem to be busy. I just wanted to thank you for your dedication these past months. You’ve taken time out of every day to teach me one-on-one, and the proof is clear in my growth. I never thought I was capable of such things, but you’ve shown me the way._

_Despite my growth, that isn’t the most precious thing I’ve gained over this short time. I gained a bond with two people I’ve always dreamed of knowing, and always looked up to. I never thought this possible. I’ve been blessed by the Goddess. Neither of you are anything like I imagined, and I say that in the most heartfelt, sincerest way possible. Getting to know you has been so much better than anything I could've dreamt up in my head._

_It’s still hard to believe that you two are my parents. The sort of thing we are living is the tales of legends and storybooks. Yet, here we are. I live it every day, and yet I can hardly believe it's real. Sometimes I fear going to sleep, because I worry I’ll wake up and I’ll be back in the life I used to have. The life without you. I don’t want to ever go back to that life._

_I hope you both understand. I may be grown, but I’m not done growing. There is still more for me to learn, more for me to accomplish. I want you to see it. Just as I want this, I also want to see you both as you should be. I want to see you as the king and the archbishop of a newly restored kingdom and church. It’s what you deserve. And, no matter what happens, I will stand by you. I don’t care what anyone says. I’m your son, and I will tell the world. I will show them I’m the flesh and blood of King Dimitri and Archbishop Byleth. I’ll never hide it or be afraid of it again. I lingered in the shadows for years, but that ends now. To honor everything you both have done for me, I will not deny my true lineage._

_I’m not sure if what I’m writing here is of any substance. I feel like I’m rambling. I’ve never been any good with written correspondence, and given the fact that I’m addressing you makes it all the more challenging. I got the Sword of Zoltan by winning the advanced lance tournament (why the prize wasn’t a lance, I have no idea), and the circlet I brought from a jeweler. I won the money for such a thing by coming second in the advanced black magic tournament._

_I don’t really like competing, but I wanted to get you both special things to show you my appreciation. When I saw the sword, I knew it was something Papa would appreciate. So I fought for it. When the idea for Father’s circlet came to mind, I needed funds, so I entered again. Oh, and please don’t think you must repay me. I did this because I wanted to._

_I love you. I’m finally the son I was always meant to be. Thank you for coming home to me, and the rest of the family too._

_-Jeralt_

The letter was carefully set on the bed. It was silent for several minutes as the couple digested the words on the page in their own ways. Byleth clenched his hands together until they trailed across the dampness on his cheeks. He shook his head, the words still not yet coming to him. More time passed in the silence. 

“Dimitri,” he finally said, “I never knew I could feel a joy such as this.” 

“It is quite the surprise…” Dimitr replied with an exhale. He leaned the sword against the wall and stared at the ceiling, unsure of what to say next. 

“I’ll be honest. Over these past few months, I’ve fallen back into my mentoring ways, the way I was when I was a professor. Pulling Jeralt aside for one-on-one training reminds me of when I used to do it for you in our academy days. Not only that, but eating meals with him, sparring with him, it’s been a joy. Even so, I’ve been nervous that my relationship with him is more like a friend and mentor than a parent. I don’t want my relationship with him to be like a teacher and student.

“Yet, now...this is the first time I truly feel like I’m his father. Now I feel foolish for having worried about this. He’s always seen us as his parents.”

“You said it better than I could, Byleth. I agree.” 

“To think he went out his way to gift us such personalized items. It shows how heartfelt his appreciation is towards us. He _believes_ in us.”

“It has been hard to build this relationship anew. We started off not knowing anything about him. There is still a lot we don’t know. Even so, he...loves us. These gifts show us we have earned his affection beyond simply lineage. It isn’t obligation that keeps him coming back. He truly values us as his parents.”

“I don’t want to let him down. I want him to live in a world where he doesn’t have to hide his true self. It seems it has bothered him he has been forced to deny his parentage out of fear of his safety.” 

Dimitri nodded. “Yes. Him alongside former members of Faerghus and the church have been forced into the shadows. Their lives have been threatened, or stolen from them. We cannot allow this to stand.”

“We will prevail in ending this oppression.”

“Of course. But, for now...I am happy with finally feeling as though I am a true parent to him. I hope we keep getting moments like this with him, the moments we were supposed to have all along.” 

“I feel the same.” Byleth smiled and wrapped Dimitri in a warm embrace. “He is the best thing you’ve ever given me. Thank you, Papa Bear.” 

“I...was going to say the same to you…” Dimitri mumbled with a blush. 

“I await the day we will enter the Fhirdiad Palace as a family. I want to take both of you by the hand and welcome us home.” 

“I hope such is the case, beloved.” 

Soon they would enter the sunlight, but the new dawn was still far off. They would have to fight the dark to bring it back to the people, to be the wings of a prosperous tomorrow. Even so, Byleth’s mind was more preoccupied with his family than the future of the land. Nothing would make him happier than to place the crown upon Dimitri’s head, their son next to them. It was not motivated by glory or peace, but by love. 


	30. Dressed as a Prince

The quiet before the storm would soon come to an end. Byleth combed his hair while looking in the mirror, his eyes drooping with stress. His new robes were on the dresser, yet he was stalling in putting them on. After brushing his bangs over his eyes, he paced the small, square room. Dimitri opened the door after a visit to the baths. He quickly noticed his husband’s unsettled stride. 

“What is wrong, beloved?” he asked. 

“I--I…” Byleth mumbled. He huffed and carded fingers through his hair. “I can’t…” 

“Can’t what?” 

“By the Goddess, I feel like I’m going to be sick.” 

Dimitri rushed to his side and placed two firm hands on Byleth’s shoulder. He guided him to the bed and gently pushed him to sit. “What has got you feeling this way?” 

“The thought of Jeralt on the battlefield, my heart can’t take it. What if something happens to him?”

“Byleth…” Dimitri sighed and sat. He pulled Byleth into his hold. “I worry about him just as much as you do. However, he is capable of making the decision. I place my trust in his abilities, and the growth he has exhibited over the past few months. He has the strength of the two strongest bloodlines in the land, and he knows how to put it to use.” 

“I don’t care how _strong_ he is, Dimitri. He’s...my little one.” Byleth huffed and shook his head. He rubbed the grit out his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “I miss my infant, the one I could hold and protect. The one who’s whole world was just us. At least then, I could rest easy knowing he had no concept of how wicked this world really is. All he knew was he needed me.”

“I know, my beloved. We missed all our time with him. However, he is a fine young man. We must make the most of what we have with him now. I know you want to have confirmation that he needs you. I think that letter he wrote us was clear enough.”

Byleth stood with another exhale. He began stripping off his clothes to change outfits. Once bare, he pawed at his light tunic, the base of his layers. The strings were tightened at his collarbones, his fingers scratching at his trousers. He halted. A fist planted on the dresser as he winced, though he didn’t feel much pain. 

“What is wrong?” Dimtri asked from the bed. Byleth startled. 

“Are you staring at me getting dressed!?” he exclaimed. He settled himself and grabbed a cloth. The inner part of his leg was brushed with the fabric. “I’m sorry. It’s just...blood.” 

“Oh. I see. Is this...well, the monthly? Or should I worry?” 

“It is. What a brave man you are, asking that outright.” 

Dimitri blushed with a chuckle. “I love you. We have been through so much together, asking something like that should not be a big deal.” 

“You are more taboo than what is accepted. I love that about you.” Byleth smiled with a light laugh as he continued to dress. 

“I lived as a vagrant longer than I did a king. The slums don’t care about what’s taboo and what's not. Everything is about survival. Once, in the streets of a fairly large city, I was drinking cheap ale in a back alley. I had just slaughtered imperial troops camped out in Tailtean Plains on their way to Fhirdiad in service of Cornelia. I was an unkempt, unapproachable, boar of a man. Yet, this woman bursted out of her home, screaming in agony. She gripped my cloak and begged for my help. 

“It became clear to me she was pregnant. I told her I wasn’t a midwife, so she should move along. She wouldn’t listen. She dragged me back into her home and begged me to fetch her a pale of clean water. For some reason, I suppose shock, I complied. I went to the well behind the home and filled a few pales. On my way back, I heard her screaming. I peeked around the corner and watched a child slip into her hands. I was so taken aback I dropped the pales and rushed off. I assume she needed the water to clean the child, but I didn’t stay to speak with her again.” 

Byleth’s eyes widened. He was now fully dressed, having listened to the tale as he readied for the day. He adjusted the new circlet on his head. “You never told me, Dimitri.” 

“ I don’t often like to recall my years in the slums, to be honest.” 

“It explains why you were so open about being there when I gave birth.” Byleth sighed and kissed Dimitri’s forehead. “My love, those years were very formative for you. They helped make you who you are, helped determine what decisions you make and what you see as important. Please, always feel open in telling those tales to me. Honestly, I should recall my mercenary days more often also.” 

“That was one of the experiences which made me adamant about helping the people in the slums once I became king. There was no midwife around to help her, the area was too poor. I want to help those people again. I want to finish what I started.” 

“I will help you, King Dimitri, my dear husband. You are truly one of a kind.” 

Dimitri sighed as he was kissed again. “Thank you. It brings back memories, seeing you dressed like the enlightened one again. Those robes were always so imposing on the battlefield.” 

“It’s more than just for style. These robes are weaved with magic, creating a barrier that helps block the effects black magic has on me.”

“It’s beautiful on you.” 

Byleth blushed. “Quite the flattery, Your Majesty.” 

“Did you fix that necklace?” 

“Ugh, Dimitri, you are such a naughty boy.” 

“What?” Dimitri laughed. “It was just an inquiry.” 

“No. I forgot. Sorry.” 

“Oh, what a shame. I suppose I’ll just have to touch you with just hands and lips.”

“Yes, _yes_ you will,” Byleth retorted with a raised brow. “Get your head out of the clouds, my love. We have a tyrannical empire to dismantle.”

Dimitri hummed with a chuckle. “If I could have a kingdom in the clouds with you, I would finally be at peace.” 

“Let’s fight for it, then. Come, Dimitri. It’s time for war council.” 

**-0-**

After the final war council, the night was left for what little leisure they had left. In the morning, they would declare war, march toward Ailell, and hopefully reach former kingdom territory before the Church of Zahras could mobilize. Dimitri sighed and stood on the bridge next to the waterfall. The chasm extended deep, below, the water trickling off to somewhere unknown. He leaned on the stone railing and got lost in thought. 

“Hello, Papa…” Jeralt said, coming to stand beside him. “Father is searching for you. He wants us to eat dinner together tonight in your quarters.” 

Dimitri’s brows raised in surprise. “In our quarters? Why?” 

“He said he wishes for us to share one more meal as a family before the war.” 

“Oh, I see. I shall be there soon.” 

“Are you troubled, Papa?” Jeralt asked. He tilted his head, and his lurid, curious eyes were too much like Byleth’s for Dimitri to hide the truth. 

“I am fine. I was simply thinking about the day you were born,” Dimitri admitted with a sigh. He leaned off the railing and turned to face his son fully. “It was so long ago now.” 

“I am sorry, Papa.” 

A soft chuckle from Dimitri accompanied a few pats on Jeralt’s head. “You mustn’t apologize for everything, Jeralt. What happened to our family was by no means your fault.”

“I’m just so saddened by you and Father’s pain. Even so, I’m happy we’re together again, that we have this chance to be family. It must be easier for me to adjust to you than for you to adjust to me.” 

“Yes, I think it is, to be honest.” There was a pause and another long exhale. “When your father and I disappeared, he was still recovering from your birth. He was cleared for military service by Manuela, but she warned him not to overdo it. He refused to stay off the battlefield, and ended up saving me from an arrow to the chest. Then, we saw the javelins, and that was it.”

“I can’t imagine. They say they found what they thought to be Father’s blood in the woods.” 

“Yes, he was bleeding through his clothes. I know he is the progenitor god, but he is not invincible. I just want you to understand that, Jeralt. He doesn’t know his own limits. There are many things I wish I would’ve done differently. Situations where I should have _stopped_ him for his good. He always stopped me when I was acting foolish, even when I was a boorish man. He blocked me from marching to Enbarr alone, and it saved my life. Even so, when I encounter situations where I know I need to stop him, I...can’t. I can never seem to bring myself to deny his wishes.”

Jeralt frowned. “Papa, if I’m doing something foolish, or against my wellbeing, please stop me. Even if I don’t see it at the time, it’s what I would want. Perhaps Father is the same way. Perhaps he knows what’s best, but is too stubborn to be stopped.” 

“I think you are right. Your birth is something I wish had gone differently. I feel so much regret over how it happened, because it is clear to me that Byleth still experiences trauma over it. For us, time is warped, and it does not feel so long ago.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. I read in Father’s journal he made the decision to stay in the carriage. He even anticipated it could happen, and prepared for it.” 

“Yes. That is where my regret lies. I hate that he felt forced into it. I complied with his wishes, and Manuela did too, because...well, we weren’t the ones giving birth. Yet, I can’t rid myself of the feeling that it really damaged his spirit.” 

“What was the alternative?” 

“Stop in a village somewhere and find an inn. In that situation, we could’ve called another midwife if needed. Now that Byleth regrets hiding his pregnancy, and your hiding your existence, I regret how you were born. Your birth took a long time. We grew worried, and...before I was able to see you, I feared I’d lose you both.”

“Father’s journals recount I never cried, and you both mourned me when I was born, thinking I was dead. Even as the months passed, I never cried…” Jeralt mused. Dimitri nodded with furrowed brows. 

“Yes,” he said, “that is true. All he ever wanted was for you to cry. It worried us that you didn’t.” 

“I’m not sure how Father would react to this, but...perhaps one of you deserves to know. I did cry as an infant. Uncle Seteth has told me of it. Lady Rhea cared for me in the time after your disappearance. Two weeks or so after the javelin attack, Seteth joined her at the Rhodos coast. It was around that time I began to wail. It took everyone off guard, and Flayn tried to heal me, but she soon discovered I had no ailment. 

“Apparently it went on for days. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. Finally, one day, Lady Rhea grew desperate and wrapped me in one of Father’s white cloaks, which Seteth had retrieved from the monastery, hoping to give Father fresh clothes when he was found. The wailing stopped. It seemed that I was crying out for him, trying to express that I needed him. The scent of the cloak was something I recognized, and it tricked me into thinking he was near again. Lady Rhea wrapped me in his clothes whenever I cried. One day, I stopped yearning for him, I suppose because...I forgot him.” 

The bottomless chasm grew deeper. Dimitri stared into it, trying his best to swallow his upset. Somehow, he managed, and cleared his throat as if nothing were wrong. “You and your father were always together. He used to work with you wrapped in a sling around his chest.” 

“I was, and still am, quite attached to him. To both of you, for that matter. I’ve never stopped needing you both, even though you were gone. I hope Father knows that.” 

“He knows, but he is not yet ready to understand. I beg you, my son, please don’t tell your father what you just told me. His heart cannot bear it as of yet. However, a time will come when he is ready to hear it. When that time comes, I hope you will tell him.” 

“I promise, Papa. You have my word.”

“Thank you. I hope to atone for all my regrets in this war. Every last one of them.”

**-0-**

A knock on Jeralt’s door was a greeting to the new dawn. The day had finally come, and he could hardly believe it. He was going above ground again after so many months, to see the sun as a solider and a warrior. It was surreal, and he didn’t fully understand what it meant yet. The knocking didn’t give him time to think about it. 

Flayn opened the door, Jeralt still buried in his sheets. The light filtered in, and he groaned. “Byleth!” she exclaimed. “Good morning!” 

“Good morning, Flayn,” Bylth replied, his voice warm. “I have something for Jeralt.” 

“He is not yet awake. Perhaps you should do the honors.”

He chuckled and walked over to the bed. He placed a soft hand on Jeralt’s shoulder. “My child, it’s time to wake. I have something for you before we march.”

“O-Oh!” Jeralt scrambled up in bed, trying to pat down his disheveled hair. “G-Good morning, Father!” 

“Please, put on what is in this bag. I had a uniform made for you.” 

“A...uniform?” 

“Yes, everyone in the army wears a uniform based on their status and rank, I’m sure you know. I wear my robes as archbishop. Unfortunately, Dimitri’s white armor was left in Fhirdiad all that time ago, so as long as his current armor is sufficient, I left it be. But, for you, you don’t have any armor.” 

“I suppose that is true. I figured I’d take whatever is generic in the army and go from there.” 

“Nonsense!” Byleth said with a smile. He placed a bag on the bed. “I don’t care what anyone says, you are King Dimitri’s son, and you will dress as such. What I had made for you is a little self-indulgent on my part, I’ll admit, but it’s reinforced and will protect you. Please, will you wear it? If it’s uncomfortable, only until I can get it fixed for you. I don’t want you to wear anything that brings you discomfort.”

Jeralt climbed out of bed and swallowed, unsure of what self-indulgent implied. The door clicked closed as Flayn and Byleth left, both saying they’d be waiting for him outside in the hallway. The cloth bag was heavy as Jeralt dove into it. He spread the contents on the bed, and was in awe at how many pieces there were. Sweat pooled at the base of his neck as he realized he didn’t know how to put it on. He dressed in his lightest layer first, a tan tunic and trousers, then stalled. 

A knock startled him, and he realized several minutes had passed. “Jeralt?” Byleth called out. “Are you alright?” 

“I-I’m fine, Father,” Jeralt replied, his sweating intensifying. He sighed and admitted defeat. “I...don’t know how to put it on…” 

“Oh, I see. May I come in?”

The door opened and shut again. Byleth nodded with a soft smile and began pulling pieces off the bed. Jeralt flushed, a bit embarrassed by needing help getting dressed. He sighed as he pulled on the thicker, wool trousers over his thinner ones. More layers were added on. Byleth fastened guards over Jeralt’s forearms. 

“I’m sorry, Father. It’s foolish of me to need your help with something as simple as dressing.” 

“It’s not foolish, child.” Byleth chuckled as he pulled a cape over the shoulder. “When I got married, I had at least five dressers surrounding me. It was a bit suffocating, to be honest. Yet, when I saw the look Dimitri gave me, it was worth it.”

“That was for a wedding, though. Not armor.”

“Yes, but I don’t mind helping you. I used to dress you every day!” Byleth cheered as he placed the finishing touches. He looked around the room and dug his hand into the bag. He frowned. “I thought I ordered a brooch too. Did you see one?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Perhaps I forgot, or the forger did. Yet, the cape won’t stay in place without one…” 

Jeralt’s mind sparked. He pointed to the dresser. “The brooch you gave me. It’s in there.” 

The drawer was opened and the Blue Lions brooch once given to a professor by a student resurfaced. Byleth smiled and inspected it, then fastened it into the outfit. “This is perfect. Even better than the one I ordered.” He stepped back. “It’s done. Oh, I can’t stand it! It’s so great!” 

“Huh?” 

“Flayn, come here!” 

The door opened. Flayn stood next to Byleth and gasped. “This is simply amazing, Byleth!” 

“I know!” 

“We must fetch Dimitri at once!”

Jeralt frowned. “What is going on? It’s just armor…” 

There was commotion from outside the room. Flayn returned, dragging Dimitri by the hand. He stumbled along, confused by what was happening. “Flayn, what is all the--” He stopped and made eye-contact with Jeralt. _“Oh my goodness.”_

“Will someone _please_ tell me what’s happening?” Jeralt begged. “This is frightening.” 

“There is nothing wrong, my son.” Dimitri shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. “It is as though I am looking in the mirror, to my past self. Your father is quite clever, finding a way to dress you up.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I had a replica of Dimitri’s old armor made for you,” Byleth interjected. “This is what he wore in his academy days, when he was crown prince of Faerghus. As a member of the resistance army, your status is elevated due to being Dimitr’s heir. We are fighting to restore our homeland. You are its prince, and now, you are dressed as such.” 

“What!?” Jeralt exclaimed, staring at himself. “Me? A prince?” 

“Of course. It’s not official yet, but if we prevail, it will be soon.” 

“Wow. I’m not sure what to say. Even now, it's still hard to believe…” 

“It’ll get some taking used to, but there is no need to fret. We’ll guide you every step of the way.” 

With reassuring words, Jeralt eased a bit. His nervousness was still front and center, but he could rest easy with his family at his side. As long as they were with him, he wouldn’t get led astray. The notion of being a prince was still one he didn’t fully understand. Only time would tell what it meant for him. 

**-0-**

Jeralt walked along the bridge, the first to gather before the rest of the army’s highest ranked individuals. He was still lost in thought, startled by his high-caliber appearance and armor. His boots kicked up dirt as he paced. Thoughts halted when someone touched his shoulder. He whipped around, hand on his sword. The grip eased. 

“Hello, Father.”

Byleth smiled. “Hello. I wanted to thank you for the gifts you got us. The circlet is lovely.” 

“I’m glad you like it, Father,” Jeralt replied with a smile. “It looks nice on you.” 

“It perfectly fits with my robes. You are too kind.” He paused and gazed out into the abyss. “The others will be arriving shortly. Are you prepared?” 

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“Good. I also...want to apologize. My behavior the other day at the council meeting was obscene. It’s not how I wish for you to see me, but it’s not as though I can take it back.” 

Jeralt frowned. “Father, there is nothing to apologize for. They were disrespecting us as a family. I don’t think your response was unwarranted.” 

“I know. It’s painful for me to have you involved in such a mess. That is why I want you at my side, Jeralt. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, you’re my son. If anything happens to you, my heart won’t survive it. So, please, stay near Dimitri and I on the battlefield.”

“I will.” 

“Thank you.” Byleth wrapped his son in a tight embrace. “I love you so much, my dear child.” 

“I love you too, Father.” 

Before they could pull away, another, looming figure joined in the embrace. Both of Jeralt’s parents trapping him in a hug at once was both warming and exhilarating. They pulled away, Dimitri and Byleth making eye-contact with him, their gazes full of pride. 

“Hello, Papa.”

“Today begins a long, hard road,” Dimitri said. “No matter the outcome, I just want you to know we will always be family. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m ready.”

“Good. Things may get a bit brutal, and you will undoubtedly become a target. Please, stay near us, and the rest of the family. I trust your strength, but you are not yet accustomed to the battlefield as we are.”

“Of course. I admit, there is much I don’t know. I’ll continue to need your guidance.” 

“We’ll continue instructing the best we can whenever we have time. We’ll be giving a few words to our soldiers before we depart. Stay close by.”

**-0-**

The masses gathered and were anxiously awaiting their orders. Jeralt lingered around his parents and extended family, nervous at the gathering crowds looking their way. After some time, Byleth and Dimitri took center, and Jeralt stood behind them and off to the side. The vast space grew quiet as it became clear they were about to speak. 

“After many months of careful preparation, we are at last ready to make our journey to the surface,” Byleth began, his voice projected. “We have reestablished the Church of Seiros and formed an army to resist the tyranny of the Church of Zahras, or what they are better known as, Those Who Slither in the Dark. 

“The persecution of the Goddess has gone on far too long. We will crush these tyrants underfoot and set free the followers of Sothis and her children. We will reclaim Fhirdiad and establish the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, the only kingdom fit to rule this land. Once our liberation of the city is complete, King Dimitri will be coronated as the rightful king once again.” 

The crowd cheered. Dimitri nodded, and was next to speak. “We will reclaim our homeland, which was stolen from us. We will avenge our dead, and set free our persecuted. We will fight for a world where the people can live in peace without fear.” 

Byleth gazed at his husband, then back at the masses. He gestured to two soldiers, and they let drop their banner, which bore the Crest of Flames. “As the archbishop of the Church of Seiros, and on behalf of the resistance army, I hereby declare war on those who slither in the dark. Now, united under the Crest of Flames, we seek a new dawn.” 

“The gates to the surface are open,” Dimitri added. “Now, we march!” 

The enthusiastic chaos was overwhelming to Jeralt as his family turned and led the surge. He watched as soldiers followed suit, too stunned to move. Byleth grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him along, making sure he wasn’t left behind to get lost in the crowds. 

“Come, Jeralt,” he said. “We’re going home.”


	31. Crackling Flames

Blistering heat and flames of torment greeted the army as they ventured through the scorched valley of Aillel. It had been a few days of steady marching without much issue. Word that the Church of Seiros and former King Dimitri were coming had began to spread, but not far enough to elicit a broad counterattack from Enbarr. The resistance was sure they had heard about the activities of the underground, and were mobilizing. They had to create a stronghold in Fhirdiad as soon as possible, and were going to cut through Gautier and Fraldarius territory to set up their infiltration. 

Jeralt trudged, his legs heavy with the coils of heat wrapped around them. He wiped his brow and huffed, pulling his canteen to sip water. The army had to take frequent breaks to not lower morale or lose energy, the heat a stark contrast to the damp coolness of the underground.

During one of the breaks, Byleth walked over to Jeralt with a cloth. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and dabbed it over his son’s face. Jeralt scrunched his features at first, but when he felt the ice on his skin, he eased into it. 

“Coming through Aillel is never easy,” Byleth said with a frown. “How are you faring, my child?” 

“Father, I think I’m at my limit…” Jeralt admitted. He shook his head as the cloth continued to swipe over his face. “I’m _seeing_ things.” 

“What are you seeing?” 

“Up there, a group of people.” 

Byleth followed Jeralt’s finger. He snapped into action, shoving the cloth into his son’s hands. “Dimitri, Seteth, an army to the north,” he called out. 

“Wait, I wasn’t hallucinating!?” Jeralt exclaimed, rushing to join the others. He caught up to them, his family discussing things with other high ranking generals. 

“It must be a minor lord that hopes to stop us from advancing into former kingdom territory,” Dimitri said. “We must fight them back and advance out of the valley as soon as possible.” 

“I’ll notify the other generals to prepare for battle,” Byleth replied, turning and walking away. 

“Grab a lance, Jeralt,” Dimitri said, patting his son on the shoulder. “It is time for our first battle.”

After a brief, nervous bout of hesitation, Jeralt scrambled off in search of a weapon. He soon returned to Dimitri, both his parents side-by-side with their relics in hand. Byleth cupped Jeralt’s cheek with furrowed brows. 

“Please, stay close,” he said. 

Jeralt nodded. “I will.” 

At long last, Jeralt would witness what the scholars had poured into the pen of the history books. He wasn’t sure what to expect from his parents in a true battle situation, but if it was anything like training, it was going to be intense. What sort of brutality, or asheness, that would arise was uncertain. Jeralt questioned his own abilities also. He had never tasted a battlefield, let alone one in such a scorching climate. In a way, he was glad his parents insisted he stay near them. He wasn’t willing to admit he wanted to use them as a crutch for just a bit longer. 

The minor lords of the region had caught wind of the resistance army, and sought to destroy it before Queen Audrina got proper notice of it. Raising a flag with the blasphemous banner of those who slither in the dark, they rallied against what they thought were just ragtags from the underground. They were wrong. 

Clashes began and arrows scattered and splintered. Magic blistered through the heat creating blossoms of light and stars in daylight. It took awhile for the fighting to reach Jeralt and his parents, the rest of their family spread across the battlefield. In the distance, Jeralt could faintly make out Lady Rhea in the haze, her skin-tight gold and white dress accentuating the winged crown and her head. He watched in awe at her grace and resilience as she moved to heal soldiers after dealing a blow to a small group of enemies. 

Attention soon turned frontward as Byleth and Dimitri spoke to each other. With the groan of lava and the chaos of battle, Jeralt couldn’t decipher it. With the wave of Byleth’s hand, he summoned white magic to his hand. Glistening around a pulsating core, he gathered energy in his hands. After a moment, he stepped forward a few times and pushed it across the battlefield. It crashed into a group of archers and swordsmen. The light flashed, and the survivors scattered and screamed. It was then the couple rushed in. After a moment, Jeralt realized their plan and followed suit. 

Areadbhar cut through rows of men, the guided lance swift and relentless. The Sword of the Creator whipped outward and sent a line that sliced through the unsuspecting. All the while, the faces of the two wielding them remained poised, stoic, and serious. 

Jeralt’s passive role of just watching his parents do the legwork soon came to an end when an archer took aim at his chest. He startled and dodged, the flying projectile missing him by a longshot. It was then clear what Jeralt had to do. It was something he had never done before, and it intimidated him. However, he had no time to dawdle on it. He steadied and advanced, lance held at the ready. The archer scrambled for another arrow from the quiver and shot again. It was dodged. Jeralt neared enough that an arrow couldn’t be shot. He raised his lance and swung a quick diagonal slash. 

It was over. The archer was dead and there was blood on his lance. 

He stared at it in shock. Being a guard meant arresting petty criminals and carting them off to jail. It meant short-lived dagger fights with barely a drop of blood. There had never been the death of another at his hand. There was no taking back the deed. Irreversible, whoever that person was, they were gone. Did they have family like him? Were they fighting for what they thought was a just cause?

“I’m sorry,” Jeralt said. “Be at peace with the Goddess.”

“Jeralt!” Byleth exclaimed, running up to him. “Are you alright?” 

“Everything’s fine.” 

“Oh, thank the Goddess…” He sighed, wiping sweat off his brow. “The enemy forces are dwindling. We’ll face off against their general soon, which seems to be the minor lord himself. It won’t be long before this is over.” 

The general was soon in their sights. With opposing banners high, the aged, white-bearded man of the enemy army marched with what little soldiers he had left. Dimitri, Byleth, and the others from their close-knit group stoof opposite. Jeralt lingered in the background. 

“So, who are these scoundrels boasting the Crest of Flames?” the lord taunted. “Two runts claiming to be long-dead wretches of Faerghus?” 

“What stands before you is the real thing,’ Felix called out. “The true king and archbishop.” 

“Hah! How can it be so?” 

Byleth shook his head and held out the Sword of the Creator. It glowed in his grip. “It doesn’t matter what you think. You’re in our way. We’re taking back our homeland.” 

The lord laughed again. “Get slaughtered trying, then. Queen Audrina will not put up with such traitorous acts. I will cut you down for her.” 

The clash began between the remnants of the enemy army. Jeralt found his place in the tempest winds of the sorching battlefield, slicing through an enemy mage when they shot black magic at him. He huffed and wiped his brow, overwhelmed by his actions. More blood stained his lance, and his stomach grew uneasy. In the distance, Byleth and Dimitri squared off against the minor lord. The battle was short and devastating to their opposition, and the lord piled in a heap of his torn willpower as the life drained from him. The lingering soldiers surrendered, laid down their weapons in awe, and fled the battlefield. For the resistance army, their first battle was won. 

**-0-**

Being in the wooded area just beyond Aillel was relief. Camp was set and guards were on patrol and they neared former kingdom territory. Jeralt was exhausted, his fist on his cheek and his lounged by a fire. His mind was plagued by his actions, of the two souls that had been sent to the Goddess by his hand. Who were they? Did they have family waiting for him? He’d never know. 

“Hey, kid, come toast our victory with us,” Sylvain said, walking next to him. “You did good today.” 

“I suppose so, Uncle…” Jeralt mumbled, his stare lost in the flames. 

“What’s wrong? You seem a bit down.” 

“I’m alright. I’m just adjusting to being on the battlefield. I...killed for the first time today.” 

Sylvain sighed and pat Jeralt on the back. “It’s never easy, Jeralt. I won’t act like it is. This is the reality of war and the ones who wage it.” 

“Yes. I just hope the end justifies the means.” 

“We all share the same hope. When the persecution ends, and the people are free, you’ll see. Until then, stay strong. You’ve got what it takes to be a great leader in this army. You’ve just got to grow into it.” 

“Thanks, Uncle.” 

“No problem, kid,” Sylvain said with a smile. He laughed and pat Jeralt’s back again. “Hey, I know what would make you feel better. How about you go find a pretty girl to hang around your arm? Or a guy.” 

Jeralt chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not sure about that, Uncle.” 

“Well, I’ve taught you how, whenever you’re ready. A handsome guy like you, soon-to-be prince. The ladies will glob onto you. Make sure whoever you choose isn't just after your crests, though. They need to love you for you.” 

“Of course. You’ve taught me well.” 

“I sure have. If you want, come join us in the dining tent. We’re having some ale and bread.” 

“Alright. Perhaps I will join a little later on.” 

It was quiet again. Jeralt adjusted on the tree stump he was sitting on and continued to stare into the flames. The sky above was sprinkled with constellations, and he counted them when his gaze shifted. His boot kicked the grass and added to the rhythm of the crackling fire. More time passed. His thoughts drifted to other conversations, to things his parents had told him, their hopes and regrets, their plans for the future. The thoughts swam through his mind, and he got lost in it. 

“Sunshine, I found you,” someone said behind him. He turned around. 

“Oh, hello, Father.” 

“We thought you’d join us in the dining hall. Sylvain told me you’re out here alone,” Byleth said. He sat on a tree stump next to Jeralt.

Jeralt nodded, his voice lacking energy. “Yes, I am just musing…” 

“I see. I won’t disturb your peace.” Byleth stood. “Please eat when you’re ready. Your papa and I are going to retire to our tent if you need us.” 

“Alright. Goodnight, Father.” 

“Goodnight, Jeralt.” 

As Byleth began to walk away, Jeralt hesitated, not wanting him to leave. He let out a breathy noise, a call cut short of words. It startled him when Byleth caught it and turned around. 

“Yes, child? Do you need something?” 

“No, Father. I’m okay. See you tomorrow.” 

A look of doubt met Jeralt’s eyes. Byleth frowned. “You can talk to me about anything, Jeralt. I won’t push you, though. I understand there are things you may want to keep to yourself. Should you ever wish to tell us, we’re here.” 

“I...I was thinking about some things Papa told me. He told me about the day I was born.” 

“Oh?” Byleth’s eyes widened. He sat on the stump again. 

“Yes. Um…” Jeralt stiffened, nervous to talk openly about things so personal to his parents. “He said, well, it took a long time, and it really pained you.” 

“It did. But, that is natural. It was worth it. I have you.” 

“Is that love and romance? Having a child with another?” 

Byleth furrowed his brow, unsure of where his son’s thought-process was headed. “Yes, it can be. You’ve read my journal, you know your arrival was unplanned. However, you are no less loved than if we had deliberately sought to have a child. Please know that. Dimitri always told me he wanted a child with me. I was too nervous, but I wanted the same. The Goddess arranged it for us, pushing me past my fears. You are a blessing.” 

“I see. But Papa was expected to have an heir, right? So he would’ve had a child at some point.” 

“Yes. The Blaiddyd bloodline needed to continue, because before you, Dimitri was its last living heir. However, he wanted you because he wanted him and I to have a family together. It happened that having a child also fulfilled his duty in providing an heir, but it wasn't the main motivation.” 

Jeralt nodded and gazed at the stars. “So, the heir will need an heir, and so on, right? That’s how succession works.” 

“Yes.” Byleth paused. “If I may ask, what has got you thinking about this?” 

“I was thinking about how harsh war is, then Uncle Sylvain told me a girl on my arm would make me feel better. Then, I got to thinking about royalty and heirs. I suppose my thoughts wandered off on their own.”

“I see. Your prince status is not something you must worry over as of yet. And, Sylvain was once a skirt-chaser, don’t mind him teasing. Felix cast some sort a spell on him to keep him settled down all these years.” 

“Perhaps, but I’ve never--” Jeralt sighed. “Nevermind.” 

Byleth leaned over. “Hm?” 

The bright stare of lurid eyes in the dark made Jeralt hesitate. He rocked on the stump, his hands on his knees. “Pay me no mind, Father. It’s a bit trivial to speak of after such a hectic day.” 

“Nothing my son has to say is too trivial for my ears.” 

It was quiet. Jeralt exhaled long and steady. “Uncle Sylvain has always teased me about finding someone to, “hang off my arm,” as he puts it. I never have. The thought of courting someone doesn’t appeal to me.” 

A bit of surprise made its way to Byleth’s expression. He wasn’t expecting such a confession when he approached his musing son by the crackling fire. His hand cupped Jeralt’s shoulder. “That’s alright, Jeralt. If you aren’t interested, you aren’t interested.” 

“But, what about when we establish the kingdom? Once day, I will...be king. And that king will need heirs.” Jeralt winced, his stomach knotting at the thought. “I’m sorry, Father. I’ve never told these things to anyone.” 

“No need to apologize, child. I’m happy you trust me enough to confide in me. I want to be there for you.” 

“Watching you and Papa over these past months, I’ve come to see the scholars were right about your marriage. It’s quite loving. I feel honored to have the privilege of being a part of what links you two together, of getting to share part of that love. However, when I think about marriage for myself, I...don’t like it.” 

“Some people never take a spouse. There’s no shame in that.” 

“Perhaps, but...don’t I have a duty?” Jeralt rubbed his face. “What I see in you and Papa’s relationship I find beautiful, and yet, I don’t want something like that. The thought of sharing my bed with someone makes me want to...wretch. And yet, Uncle teases me about it sometimes. I know he means no harm, and would stop if I told him the truth, but...I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it. Gah, this is so odd to say.”

“Don’t worry about heirs and duty, Jeralt. That is far, far into the future. I just...want to be clear I understand what you mean. You don’t wish to have a romantic relationship with anyone?” 

“Yes, that’s it. And marriage sounds awful, because it must be consummated and the thought disgusts me to no end. I don’t want anyone else in my bed. I’ve felt this way for a while now.” 

“I respect your wishes, Jeralt. If you find that uncomfortable, I won’t discuss it with you. I don’t want you to be ashamed of it. Come what may, I want you to be yourself. You’re my son above all. I value your happiness over everything else.”

Jeralt’s eyes widened, the response opposite of what he was expecting. He was anticipating a gentle lecture about the future kingdom, and how it was his responsibility to help carry on the Blaiddyd bloodline. Despite how much he had gotten to know his parents over the past months, it was clear he still had much to learn about them. 

“I see. Thank you. I suppose I’ve wanted to get that off my chest a while now.” 

“I’m honored you chose me to confide in first. I want to be your parent the best I can.” Byleth smiled, his hand brushing back knotted strands of Jeralt’s hair. “I want so desperately to take care of you, but your needs are not what they were as an infant. It’s a bit difficult for me to adjust so that I can help you as you are now.” 

“You’ve done a great deal for me. I can’t express my gratitude enough, or my joy.” 

Byleth stood, and Jeralt followed. They embraced. “I feel the same. Please, come to me whenever you have something on your mind. I’m here.”

The warmth of having parents to speak with rustled in Jeralt’s soul. It was a foreign foreign, months couldn’t erase years of being an orphan. Even still, he was comforted by what he had gained in the midst of a time of turmoil. “Thank you, Father.” 

**-0-**

It was just after midnight, the flicker of a candle alight against the cream of a modest tent. A cot for two was on the ground, the former royal couple tucked underneath its blanket. They both stared at the ceiling after a hectic day, their bones aching. Dimitri rested his head on his hand, an elbow angled next to his eyepatch. He closed his eye. Byleth sighed and kept staring at the cream color, both hands placed neatly on his chest. It had been a long while since he had spent the night in a war camp, and never with his husband. It was an odd feeling. 

“Dimitri.” 

“Hm?” Dimitri hummed, eye still closed. 

“Our son told me he finds sex repulsive.” 

Dimitri’s eye burst open. He leaned to peer over Byleth’s body, his expression shocked. “What?” 

“Our son told me--” 

_“I heard,”_ Dimitri interjected. “How did you find this out?” 

Byleth shrugged with a furrowed brow. “We were just talking by the fire and he told me. We were speaking of Sylvain’s teasing, and he admitted he found the whole idea of romance, marriage, and consummation unappealing. He said he’s never told anyone that before.” 

“He told you something he’s never told anyone else?” 

“Yes. I’ll be honest, I’m a bit surprised at what it was. Even so, it doesn’t bother me. I just thought I’d tell you.”

Dimitri laid down again. “It is a shock, but...I love him all the same. We don’t need to worry about heirs and royalty just yet. We have a long road ahead of us.” 

“This is true…” Byleth sighed. He reached for Dimitri’s hand underneath the blanket and grasped it. “It’s odd, we’re finally discussing our family passively in the middle of the night. This is something we should’ve been able to do long ago.” 

“It is. I am glad he is comfortable enough with us to share such deeply personal things.” 

“So am I. I hope he will continue to share his life with us.” 

“I hope so too. I keep thinking about Fhirdiad and the castle we used to call home. So many memories of ours rest there. Our wedding, days spent together before and after Jeralt’s birth. It pains me to know he has no recollection of our days together there.”

Byleth frowned. “I feel the same.” 

“We will make new memories with him there. After today’s battle, I am feeling more confident that we can do this.” 

“Yes. It won’t be long, my love.” 

The candle was blown out as the couple settled into sleep. The long road had just begun, but home was just on the horizon. With another push, it would be there’s once again. A new chapter for the Blaiddyd family was set to begin, a chapter long overdue in a book aged yet not fully written. Through it all, their bonds only grew.


	32. A Wintry Haze

A few weeks passed of minor skirmishes and marches toward Fhirdiad. Word from scouts had relayed Queen Audrina was mobilizing troops, but would take weeks to march from the southern to the northern part of the continent, where the resistance army currently resided. They would be able to reclaim Fhirdiad before she made it to them. 

People were defecting and joining their cause each day, and their numbers were growing. The minor lord in charge of the “Faerghus Dukedom,” was preparing a defensive line in preparation for any attack. The weeks had been spent carefully planning out tactics. Long nights in council made everyone more exhausted than usual, even though fighting had been sparse. 

It was a new day and new march was upon them. The cold and the forested surroundings were nothing like Jeralt had ever experienced. The temperate weather and mild seasons of Garreg Mach were what he was accustomed to. Brutal cold, even when the rest of the land was entering spring, was not something he expected from his family’s homeland. 

The army marched up a mountain and settled midday due to the cold. Jeralt warmed by chopping firewood for the rest of the army to use. Snow crunched as Dimitri approached him. 

“My son,” he said, “there is something I wish to show you.” 

Jeralt finished chopping the last of his wood and nodded, placing the axe against a tree stump. “Of course, Papa. Lead the way.” 

The snow crunched beneath them as they wandered through the thick woods of a high altitude. After about ten minutes, the woods began to clear, and the sharp edge of rock came into view. Dimitri grabbed Jeralt’s forearm and guided him through a rough thicket. 

“Watch your step,” he said. “What I want to show you is just beyond here.” 

The thicket cleared and the vast lands below could be seen. The sun was shining, just beginning to slip downward. With clear skies, details of far away places could be seen with the naked eye. It was breathtaking. Jeralt was used to mountains and the views from his old window, but nothing was quite like the wintry sprawl before him. 

“Do you see that out in the distance?” Dimitri asked with a slight smile. He gestured to a fixed point. 

Jeralt followed his hand. His eyes widened at the large city in the distance, a castle towering above buildings and the walls around it. He counted spires, three main ones in the center. “Wow,” he said. 

A strong arm wrapped around Jeralt’s shoulders as Dimitri pulled him close. “That is Fhirdiad. I am happy to see the castle still stands.”

“I never knew Fhirdiad had such a large city sprawl.” 

“You have been there before, you just don’t remember. That castle is where I grew up, and where I ruled over Faerghus as king.”

Jeralt’s eyes widened. “It’s larger than I would have imagined.” 

“If things had gone as planned, you would have grown up in the castle as well. I am sure you would have spent much time at the monastery too. But, for the Blaiddyd family, that is home. You spent your first weeks of life with us there. If your father hadn’t gone into labor during the carriage ride, you would have been born there also, just as I was.”

“I can hardly fathom it.” 

Dimitri nodded. “Soon, you won’t have to wonder anymore. I will welcome you home after we take it back. You were an infant when you lived there, so your bassinet was beside the bed in our chambers. You never did get a room of your own.”

“I’m excited to see the inside, I’ll admit.”

“I am glad. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.”

Thicket rustled behind them. Jeralt and Dimitri stiffened, hands on the hilts of their swords. They eased when they were met with the missing link to their trio. Byleth waved, a thick, gold and while cloak wrapped around his body. He joined them, sandwiching Jeralt between his parents. 

“I finally found you two,” he said. “I just finished a prayer service with Rhea and Seteth. I was wondering where you had gone.” 

“I was showing him Fhirdiad,” Dimitri replied. 

“I see it. That brings back so many memories. We got married in the castle halls, and Jeralt and I spent the days together there after he was born. Oh, and the coronation took place there, too.” 

“I was speaking to him about the castle. It was built for the Blaiddyd family, and generations have grown up there as each comes into the throne when it's their time.” 

“It’s a wonderful place, Dimitri. I hope it looks as it did when we lived there together.” 

Dimitri smiled with a small chuckle. “I was also telling Jeralt about how he was supposed to be born in Fhirdiad. It was only an hour or two after he was born that we arrived.”

“I wish I would’ve made it to the castle. That carriage was so cramped…” 

“Where do you think Jeralt was born, Byleth?” Dimitri said with a teasing tone. He pointed out into the distance, to the plains and forested areas leading to Fhirdiad. “Over there?” 

Byleth sighed with an amused shake of his head. He hummed and pointed to a different spot. “Right before he was born I remember seeing the plains out the window, so I’m thinking...over there.” 

“I thought I remembered seeing the castle in the distance while you were in labor. I hoped we would make it in time.” 

“No way. Jeralt was born in the woods.” 

“You just said you saw plains right before he was born.” 

“Like you had any time to pay attention to what was going on outside, Mr. Midwife.” 

Dimitri laughed at the nickname. “I think the pain made your vision fuzzed, beloved.” 

“Of course it did,” Byleth retorted in a light voice. “Why don’t I set your crotch on fire and see how you feel about it?” 

Laughter from between them interjected between the banter. Jeralt wiped water from the edges of his eyes as his amusement contracted his chest. Byleth and Dimitri chuckled with him. 

“Who knew the fierce figureheads of the resistance army could banter so playfully like this?” Jeralt mused. He cleared his throat. “I’ll say, I like seeing a more lighthearted side to you both.” 

Byleth smiled and shook his hands with teasing excitement. “Oh, Jeralt, that reminds me. How about I tell you the story of our wedding? About how during our first dance, Dimitri tripped and we nearly crashed into the wine table. And this was _after_ he won the White Heron Cup!” 

“I’d love to hear it.” 

Dimitri groaned, his face red. “Beloved, _please_ , not that story…”

**-0-**

The days passed, and the resistance army was soon in position for its offensive. The snow had grown heavier, blankets coating the ground in a pristine white. Byleth and Dimitri stood at the head of their army, watching the world in front of them as they took post at the top of a hill. Jeralt lingered by their side as the rest of the higher ranking members joined them. 

“The snowstorm has greatly reduced visibility,” Byleth said with a sigh. “On a normal day, we would be able to see Fhirdiad from this vantage point.” 

“Such is life in the north…” Sylvain said with a sigh of his own. “At least we don’t have the heat to contend with here.” 

“Low visibility can hinder our ability to see the enemy coming. They may use this against us. We need to be ready for an attack at any time,” Felix added. 

“Our spies have reported there is insurrection in the city with word of our arrival. Citizens are pushing back against the leadership,” Dimitri interjected. He cupped his chin with two fingers, lost in thought as the snow clung to his cloak. “Even so, these conditions are not ideal. Breaking through the main gates and into the city will be difficult if the enemy is already on the defensive.”

“Is it possible to beat the enemy at their game? To use the snow to our advantage before they use it for theirs?” Annette asked. 

Byleth frowned. “It’s not impossible, but incredibly risky. We can’t size up the enemy, and given _we’re_ the invaders, their access to supplies is likely superior to ours. They have Fhirdiad at their disposal.” 

The conversation was passive in Jeralt’s mind. He studied the swirling snow as it cascaded around them, fogging the world below. A light flicker caught his attention in the distance. Not far from the foot of the hill there was movement. Jeralt watched as the conversation turned to static. In the quick lull of snowfall, he saw the draw of a bow. He drew fire in his hands and launched the magic downward, setting the grassy plains below aflame. The archer screamed out as he was trapped in the flmes. Two others appeared in the light, and Jeralt wasted no time launching more magic their way. They were soon set ablaze, burning together at the foot of the hill. The conversation halted as everyone turned their attention to him. 

“They’re trying to ambush us,” he said to the others. “There are enemies at the foot of this hill.” 

“I suppose our strategic talks are over,” Felix replied. He took the bow off his back and drew an arrow from the quiver. “Jeralt’s already slaying enemies. I’m going to join him.”

“If we can break through the enemy’s barrier, we advance through the main gates and head for the castle,” Byleth said. “Taking back the castle means taking back the city. Let’s go.” 

Low visibility and cold temperatures made the battle for Fhirdiad long and arduous. Enemies pounced at a moment's notice, rushing through the snow and tearing through. Their brazen tactics were something Byleth noticed, and as he fought his way through hordes of opposition, his mind reeled through possibilities and tactics. The glow of the Sword of the Creator cut through the frost as he slid against a patch of ice. He hit the ground on all-fours and the thin layer cracked, his cloak and armor shielding him from greater injury. He grimaced, anticipating a few bruises in the morning. Jeralt rushed over to him. 

“Father!” he exclaimed. “Are you alright?” 

Byleth accepted the hand extended to him, and was hauled to his feet. He held onto Jeralt’s forearm. “I’m fine, thank you.” He paused and scanned what he could see of the battlefield. “Where is Dimitri?” 

“I just saw Papa on the other side of the creek.” 

“Let’s go. There’s something about the enemy I’ve noticed. I must speak with him about it.” 

Together, they made their way across the iced creek and to the other side, closer to the city walls. Dimitri leaned against the wall and knocked a canteen back, one hand still gripping a sword. He nodded to them, Dedue keeping watching next to him. 

“Dimitri, the enemy has no strategy,” Byleth said. “They’re attacking blind. I can tell this by their mindless attacks, they have no formation.” 

“I can tell the fighting style of this group is sporadic and chaotic, as if the soldiers have never been met with true warfare,” Dimitri replied. 

“I think we should push through the city gates. Now.” 

“Are you certain?” 

“If we don’t try now, we may never get the chance. The snow is an advantage and disadvantage for both sides at the same time. The enemy has thrown caution to the wind. When the snow clears, they will be able to see our numbers, and call reinforcements with more ease. We need to push to the castle while they can’t see it coming.”

“You’re right. Our strategies won’t matter if we end up vastly outnumbered. We need to defeat their leadership and take back the city to stop it from happening.” 

Jeralt sighed, nervousness in his core. Fighting had been surreal so far, but he had grown used to it day by day. Even so, the thought of breaking through a city’s gates and overthrowing its leadership seemed like something out of a book. It was what he had read in the texts detailing the warfare against the empire decades prior, and yet, now he was living a repeat of it. It hardly seemed real. He took his canister out and tried to knock back a gush of water to settle himself. It was empty, and he frowned at it. 

Dimitri unclipped his canister and handed it to his son. It was accepted with a nod of thanks, and freezing water trickled down Jeralt’s throat. He handed back the canister with a sigh. 

“How are you holding up, my son?” Dimitri asked with furrowed brows. 

“I’m--I’m fine,” Jeralt insisted. “Let’s go.” 

“If you at any point need to fall back, then _fall back,”_ Byleth interjected. “I don’t care how strong you think you are. I want you in one piece.” 

The sternness in Byleth’s tone made Jeralt a bit intimidated. It was a tone rooted in affection and parental concern, but was intertwined with the stress of battle. Jeralt frowned and stared at his parents. “I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.” 

“I would be lying if I told you I didn’t feel the same….” Byleth sighed. “But this is our only chance. We must use the terrain and the weather to our advantage.” 

“I understand. Tactically speaking, this is our best bet. Should we follow the wall and to the main gates?” 

“Yes, we should. Let’s not dawdle any longer.” 

**-0-**

With the wintry haze of an early spring snowstorm, the resistance army was able to break through the main city gates. The chaotic tactics of their opposition were broken through, and fighting ignited in the streets. Breaking through gave the resistance a boost in morale, and the fighting spirit intensified. The most elite soldiers made their way to the castle as insurrection and battle rang through the cobblestone. 

The castle guard was in a defensive position at the castle gates, but what was positioned wasn’t enough to hold back the strongest of the resistance. The fanciful iron was busted through and warfare plagued the courtyard. Frozen fountains and slick cobblestone decorated the landscape of brutality. With the defenses dwindling, Byleth and Dimitri lead a force into the castle itself. 

The entrance hall was full of soldiers. A wave of nostalgia hit Byleth as his memories mixed with battle cries. The carpeting was still the same navy blue, and the columns and walls the same silver. The image of his past self standing off to the side flashed through his mind. In another life, he had stood in the halls, cradling a hidden bump in his hand while awaiting his husband’s return. Now, such fond memories clashed with war. Fury filled his core. This was his home. 

“Get out,” a soldier sneered at Byleth as they faced-off. “You traitors are nothing but wretches out to kill.” 

_“This is my home,”_ Byleth retorted, taking a swing with a sword. “If you side with those that stole it from me, then face the consequences.” 

“All I know is a delusional king and his whore used to live here before better leadership took their place.” 

The comment sent Byleth to the edge. He pushed his swordsmanship to the limit and countered every attack. The enemy’s sword was knocked across the room. It startled the soldier, and before he could respond with another tactic, Byleth knocked him off balance with a gloved fist to the jawline. The soldier was knocked onto the blue carpet. A dagger was unclipped from Byleth’s belt as he kneeled over him. 

The soldier was grabbed by the collar and dragged onto the silver marble flooring. “Call me a whore if you want, but I’m something far scarier than that.” He drove the dagger into the chest. “I’m an ashen demon that doesn’t want his carpet bloodied.” 

Blood trickled onto the floor as Byleth’s white cloak was stained crimson. He stood, sheathed his dagger, and drew his sword again. After identifying another enemy, he threw himself into the fight. 

Jeralt followed his father’s movements with awe. After fighting off a few enemies on his own, he had seen the deliberate, almost depraved, way Byleth had defeated an enemy with a dagger. He didn’t know what to think, and didn’t have the time. The fighting continued. 

The warfare pushed its way into the throne room. What appeared to be the minor lord of the city met them at the head of the dais. He walked down the stairs, sword drawn, as only a few remaining soldiers stayed at his side. Byleth and Dimitri stood before him. 

“What do we have here?” the lord said. “Two wretches for old Lord Delvin to take care of?” 

“We’re taking back what belongs to us,” Byleth said. 

“Are you both truly the former royal couple of Faerghus? You seem so, from what I call seeing during boyhood. Only the strength of crests and relics would be able to break through this far. I used to think kindly of King Dimitri and his husband. But, when Queen Audrina published her pamphlets detailing the horrors they put her through, my mind was changed.” 

“I did nothing but look after her the best I could.” 

“Hah. What lies!” Delvin said, his voice echoing throughout the room. His gaze landed on Jeralt. “Is that parasite Her Majesty wrote about? The love-child of two wretches?” 

Dimitri gripped his weapon tighter. “What is it to you?” 

“Oh, nothing. Everyone opposing me here will meet their end, anyways. It’s just interesting to finally see what Queen Audrina was talking about.”

“I’ll kill you,” Byleth interjected. “Stay away from my son!” 

“Oh, I’ve struck the whore’s soft spot, huh?” Delvin taunted. He pointed at Jeralt, then ordered his soldiers. “Kill the runt in the back first and make the parents watch. Make these wretches wail.” 

The soldiers charged. Jeralt startled and drew his weapon, expecting to get overpowered. It wasn’t so. The threats seemed to snap his parents, and their unrivaled strength was unleashed. Dimitri launched a javelin across the room, and sliced through the air to swipe past Delvin’s neck and throw him off-balance. Byleth took the opportunity to target the minor lord with the Sword of Creator, whipping it outward to wrap around his ankle. The elder man was dragged across the room. 

Meanwhile, Dimitri was taking on multiple soldiers at once, blocking them from making their way to Jeralt. With quick swings of his lance, a few met their end at once. When the weapons snapped from over-exertion and extended use, he grabbed the last enemy by the throat. The soldier kicked and thrashed to no avail. 

_“Don’t struggle,”_ Dimitri demanded in a low, guttural voice. The soldier soon met their end with a squeeze of a bare hand. 

Byleth towered over the minor lord, dagger at the ready. He drove it in without hesitation. _“Begone,”_ he said as the minor lord yelped in agony. “I don’t hesitate with fiends like you.” 

With the minor lord’s final breath, the fighting was over. The castle had been reclaimed. Byleth stared up at the banner hung over the throne, the symbol the traitorous emblem of those who slither in the dark. With a wind spell, he knocked it off the wall, and it hit a column to the right. Afterward, he collapsed on his knees, his energy spent. Dimitri trudged to his side and joined him on the floor. They huffed for breath, their armor tainted with their outburst. 

Jeralt stood at the entrance of the room, frozen in shock. His sword was still drawn at the ready for enemies that never came. His parents had destroyed everything in their path, and with vitriol the likes of which he had never seen. With his mouth slightly agape, he stared into the distance. Felix and Sylvain rushed into the throne room. 

“What happened here?” Sylvain said. 

“I--I didn’t do anything…” Jeralt mumbled. 

“Huh? What do you mean, kid?” 

“I just stood here…” Jeralt mumbled. He snapped free from his shock and lowered his sword with a sigh. His parents had slid to the ground and now sat side by side in front of the dais, still heaving for breath. He turned to his uncles. “The minor lord has been defeated. The castle is ours.” 

“Fantastic. It’s over, then. Fhirdiad is in our control,” Sylvain said with a grin. 

“Uncle, my parents...slaughtered everyone in this room. They targeted me, but they never made it this far, and I didn’t lift a finger.” 

Felix shrugged. “Your father is a boar, Jeralt. He can tame the beast, but it will inevitably rear its head sometimes. And Byleth was a mercenary for most of his life. They kill without hesitation.” 

“They both snapped when the lord threatened to kill me. I’m a bit shocked…” 

“Let’s sweep the castle for stragglers, kid,” Sylvain said. “I think it should be clear, but we don’t want an ugly surprise once we get settled. Your parents will come around. Just let them fall from their high.” 

“Understood.” 


	33. Most Precious Treasure

Carnage was scattered around the throne room as silence prevailed. The former royal couple, having slain to regain their home, sat next to each other before the dais. With the previous banner torn away, the throne awaited a new owner to claim it. Byleth and Dimitri stared up at it as if it were the Goddess to offer prayers to. The stillness was eerie, and all fighting had ceased. 

Byleth’s head lulled as he stared at the throne. He sighed, his hands trembling in his lap. “Dimitri…” he mumbled. “Are we...monsters?” 

A long exhale filled the gap. Dimitri furrowed his brow as the couple looked at each other. “I know I am.” 

“I snapped…” 

“So did I…” Dimitri paused. “I don’t want our son on the battlefield anymore, Byleth…” 

“It’s not as though we can stop him.” 

“I know.” 

Byleth swallowed, pain in his expression. “It’s not that I don’t trust him. I don’t trust _myself_ not to become a demon when someone tries to harm him. What we did in this room was depraved, we can’t deny it.” 

“Yes, it was. I have not fought in such a brutal way since Gronder Field.” 

“He saw us act this way.” 

“I would rather him see me as a beast than harm befall him.” 

“I agree.” 

It was silent again. After a while of sitting in front of dais, Byleth stood. He grabbed Dimitri’s arm and pulled him to his feet, pushing him gently toward the throne. The combined steps were heavy and slow as they progressed. Finally, Byleth turned his husband around and pushed on his shoulders, placing him in his rightful place. Among the corpses of their enemies, they were alone in their feat. Dimitri stared at Byleth with a weary gaze. 

Two gloved hands cupped Dimitri’s cheeks. Byleth cradled him as if he were fragile, though it was never the case. Tears filled his eyes, the stress of the day falling upon him like the moon and stars crashing down. They slipped onto his skin as his breath hitched, before him the king of old. They were finally home. 

Dimitri watched the tears fall, and couldn’t help when water filled his vision. The previous liberation of Fhirdiad had him shedding happy tears as the people welcomed him, and yet, this was much different. Alone with his husband, there was heavier air among them. When before Byleth told him not to cry during a happy time, he now shed his emotions openly. Whether it was now a happy time or not, they were unsure, but their tears fell all the same. 

Byleth brought Dimitri’s head into his abdomen as he stood in front of the throne. He burrowed him into whatever warmth lay beneath his depravity, and they shared their combined, overwhelmed reactions. They expressed their stresses openly, the reality weighing heavy on them. Returning home had reminded them of all they had lost in between. 

“Faerghus…” Byleth whispered, “how I’ve missed you.” 

**-0-**

Jeralt munched on a cookie from a pack of sweets Annette had given him a few months prior. He was in the entrance hall of the castle, marveling at the architecture. All the remnants of warfare had been cleared away, and soldiers of the resistance army were resting their bones after a hard earned victory. The castle had been swept, and no one remained but allies. 

Despite munching on sweets, his mind was still in shock. The depravity and brutality his parents were capable of was beyond what he ever expected to see. He had read about the Ashen Demon and the Boar Prince, but to see them manifest so suddenly was something he’d never forget. To know such power was conjured on his behalf was also difficult to fathom. Was a threat to him all it took to send his parents over the edge? 

“There you are, Nephew,” Seteth said, approaching him with a slight smile. “Welcome home.” 

“Thank you, Uncle,” Jeralt replied with a nod. He shoved the remainder of his cookie into his mouth and shook his head. 

“Is there something on your mind?” 

“My parents are brutal, Uncle…” Jeralt finally admitted aloud. He furrowed his brow, part of him regretting speaking. “They single handedly slaughtered every soldier in the throne room. I know this is war, but…”

“Yes, such is warfare. However, I understand Dimitri has a hidden side, a side that was once in the open. He was once quite the cruel man, as I’ve told you. It’s written in the scholarly texts as well. Even so, he and Byleth fell in love, and he began to see the error in his ways. Afterward, he acted more righteous.” 

“My father is just as brutal, Uncle. I think I’ve finally seen it. The minor lord ordered his men to target me, and my parents snapped. I see now they are willing to engage in depravity if it means keeping me safe.” 

Seteth furrowed his brow. “I see…” He sighed and shook his head. “Such is parenthood, Jeralt. I know you may not understand, and it may come as a shock, but the feeling of someone targeting your child is agonizing. I’ve experienced it before, and there is no pain like it. It makes vengeance a valid option in a parent’s mind.” 

“I understand this is not something I will ever fully grasp. It’s still a shock, though.” 

“That is understandable. However, I would ask that you exercise patience with your parents, and refrain from passing judgement on them when they are protecting you with methods you may find appalling. They love you dearly. As the one who raised you and Flayn, I would also do what I could to protect you, even if it meant being more brutal than usual.” 

“Thank you, Uncle. I appreciate all you have done for me.” 

“Think nothing of it. Perhaps tonight engage in some prayer to clear your mind. And, be sure to let your parents know you care about them. That will help them through even the darkest of times.” 

“I will.” 

**-0-**

The Crest of Flames was hung in the throne room after the warfare had been washed away. It was midnight, the sconces lit around the castle as soldiers rejoiced in victory. Though the halls were jovial, Byleth and Dimitri sought no such festivities. An emptiness now plagued them, and it was difficult to understand why. They had won back their home, and yet, the satisfaction wasn’t there. 

Byleth and Dimitri stood on a balcony just beyond the throne room, far below what used to be their chambers. Neither of them had yet ventured beyond the area around the former battlefield. The snow still fell, growing heavier as the cold set in. The door opened as Jeralt stepped outside. His search had just begun, and relief came upon him when it ended quickly. He pulled a thick cloak closer to his body as his face stung with the freezing breeze. The couple turned around. 

“Child, go back inside. It’s too cold for you out here,” Byleth said. 

“Not without you, Father. It’s too cold for you out here as well,” Jeralt replied. 

“Is there something you need, Jeralt?” Dimitri asked, his voice tired. 

“No, Papa. I just...wanted to see you two. I wanted to ask if perhaps we could tour the castle together as a family.”

“I see. I suppose that would be nice. We can find somewhere to settle tonight.” 

The family roamed the halls, making their way higher into the castle. After a while of nostalgic tales and musings, they came upon what used to be the royal bedchambers. Byleth put his hand on the knob and pushed. It was locked. 

Memories mixed with his disappointed sigh, flashes of his marriage passing through his mind’s eye. The first time he had entered the room was on his wedding night, as per Faerghus tradition, a couple didn’t sleep in the same room until marriage. The regal black and blues, the lion banner on the wall, the fireplace, the furniture, and the large canopy bed had taken his breath away. Once settled, it had become the room that provided turning points in his life. His marriage was consummated beyond the laced double-doors, and not long after, they had conceived the son that stood next to them. It was surreal to be returning to it. 

The memories faded when the door creaked open. Jeralt stood and pumped his fist, pleased at his handiwork. Byleth shook his head, so lost in his mind that he hadn’t seen his son pick the lock with a thin piece of wire.

“How did you learn that?” Dimitri asked with a chuckle. 

“I was bored…” Jeralt sighed, shaking his head. “I found a book about locks in the Abyss library and played with some old locks in my spare time there.” 

“Well, it certainly came in handy. Thank you.”

Byleth nodded and made his way in as the others followed. It was pitch black, and he formed a fire spell in his hand, muscle memory pointing his aim to the fireplace. It slowly crept through the air, and ignited wood underneath the mantle. The room was set to a warm glow. The couple gasped. 

The room was kept mostly the same. The sofa in front of the fire was the same, as well as a circular table for two in the corner next to the balcony. The canopy bed held a different set of sheets, but the fabric woven above was still a regal black and blue. The lion banner, surprisingly enough, still hung over the mantle. Byleth walked through the room and frowned, standing in the spot where a bassinet and rocking chair were missing. 

“You used to sleep over here, Jeralt…” he said. 

“Yes. We never made a nursery for you. It was too risky when we wished to keep your existence a secret. However, we came to enjoy your presence by our side at night…” Dimitri mused. 

“I see. This room is wonderful. Is it the same as it once was?” 

“Almost exactly. There are a few minor differences, but it’s mostly how we left it. There’s a bath over there as well…” Byleth said, pointing to the door in the corner. 

“The royal couple has returned, and as such, I think you both should retire to this room for the night,” Jeralt said with a smile. He sat on the sofa next to the fire. “It’s quite warm. And the sofa is more plush than any bed I’ve ever slept on!” 

“Where will you sleep tonight, my son?” Dimitri asked. 

Jeralt shrugged. “There are cots being set up in the throne room and entrance hall. I’m sure there are more bedrooms around here, but...I think I’m too tired to try and lock pick them all tonight.” 

“You may stay with us and sleep on the sofa if you wish. You may use the bath here also.” 

“Papa, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your privacy.” 

“You won’t be. We are going to wash up and head to bed. Today was an exhausting day.” 

Jeralt bowed. “Thank you.” 

“Go ahead and wash up. Your father and I are going to reminisce.” 

The door to the bath closed. Dimitri sighed as soon as his son was out of sight. He walked to the balcony doors and watched the snowfall. Byleth followed. 

“This victory weighs on me…” Dimitri admitted. “I am finally home.” 

Byleth nodded with furrowed brows. “Are we any different than Edelgard all those years ago? She fought for the future of the continent, declaring war on the church because she felt the ideals oppressed the people. Aren’t we doing the same?” 

“Perhaps we are. It is a bit more complex than my mind can comprehend.” He paused and crossed his arms, his eyes skyward. “Sometimes I hear Edelgard’s voice screeching at me from beyond the grave. Asking me why I got to live, yet she had to die. Asking me...why I get to be with my son, and yet she can’t be with her daughter.” 

“My love, why didn’t you tell me? Your burdens are mine to bear.” 

“There is nothing you can do about it, Byleth. I have heard the voices of the dead since long before I met you. And tonight, with the castle mine again, my father’s voice keeps calling me. Some part of me is shocked at the scene I put on in the halls of my home, before the throne my family guarded for generations. No Blaiddyd has ever been the beast I am.” 

“Pay your father a visit tomorrow and take Jeralt with you. He’s familiar with my father, he should be familiar with yours.” 

“When we find the time, I will. Perhaps it will be easier if I don’t go alone…” Dimitri shook his head. “There is much ahead of us, Byleth. You shall have your wish granted soon.” 

A warm hand wrapped around Dimitri’s and squeezed. Byleth closed his eyes. “It doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would…” 

“No, unfortunately.” 

“After the coronation, Jeralt will officially be heir to a Faerghus throne. The rumors still fly, even with my outburst some time back. I’m embarrassed that I ever acted that way.” 

“One day, they will understand, one way or another. As I said, Byleth, you said nothing untrue. When I’m truly king again, I’m not going to tolerate anyone speaking ill of my husband. I don’t tolerate it now as is.” 

“But am I really your--?” 

“ _Don’t_ , Byleth,” Dimitri chided softly. “You _are_ my husband. Don’t question yourself. Just because you had a child doesn’t mean that changed. I accepted it the night I proposed to you, I accepted it the night we consummated our marriage, I accept it to this day. I love you as you are.” 

Byleth exhaled. “I’m sorry. I lose sight of myself sometimes. I struggle with who I am, especially after how I acted today. It’s called into question everything I am. It makes me wonder if I’m just a lying, ashen demon, hiding what I truly am and what I’m capable of.”

“I would be lying if I said I have never had those thoughts about myself.”

“These are our burdens to bear, I suppose…” 

“Yes. I am here to support you through it all, Byleth. Now and forever.” 

It was quite a moment as Byleth studied the snow. He squeezed Dimitri’s hand, pain in his eyes. “Of course, my love. Of course...” 

**-0-**

A warm blanket from the linen closet was draped across Jeralt’s sleeping form on the sofa. After a refreshing bath, a pillow was waiting for him as the fire crackled. Within minutes, he was in a dreamless state. His parents slipped off to the bath themselves, trying to wash their worries away to no avail. When finished, Byleth covered Jeralt and watched over him. Dimitri walked to him, ruffling his damp hair. 

“He is so sweet…” Byleth mumbled. 

“He is a joy to have as a son. I am very thankful for it,” Dimitri replied with a nod. 

“All I do, I do for him. I can’t deny myself any longer. I feel I must atone for all the years I wasn’t there for him. His first words, first steps, first _everything_. We missed it all. Being with him in this room just reminds me of all we didn’t see.” 

“I feel the same, beloved. Let us rest. Tomorrow is yet another early morning.” 

The fire continued to crackle as the couple settled in the large canopy bed for the first time in several years. Dimitri’s chest soon reflected rhythmic breathing, and Byleth watched for a while before flopping over to face the fireplace. He couldn’t see Jeralt due to the tall back of the sofa, and instead watched the fire crackle and listened to it pop. 

Once the dozing began, it didn’t last long. Obnoxious noise filled his ears, and he huffed. In his mind, he and his husband had only been married a few years, but in his bones it certainly felt like more than twenty. The blankets strewn over the sofa rustled and Jeralt sat up. He rubbed his head and yawned. 

“Is something wrong, child?” Byleth asked from across the room. Jeralt startled. 

“Oh, Father, you’re awake. What is that--” Jeralt turned around and stopped himself with a chuckle. “Papa is snoring.” 

“Did he wake you?” 

“I’m not sure. Perhaps I’m just restless.” 

“Hold a moment…” Byleth rustled out of the sheets and stood. He grabbed his pillow, then promptly smacked it on Dimitri’s head. Dimitri startled awake with a garbled noise. 

“Huh?” he mumbled. 

“Your snoring is bothersome,” Byleth said in monotone. 

Dimitri yawned and readjusted under the sheets. “Sorry, beloved…” 

Chuckles came from the sofa, and Byleth smiled in response. He walked over to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you need anything? Water, or perhaps an extra blanket?” 

“Is there more water in the bath? My cup is empty,” Jeralt replied. 

“Yes. I’m going to get some for myself. Give me your cup.” 

After refilling two cups, Byleth returned to the sofa. In the short time away, the noise had returned. He huffed again and sat next to his son in front of the fire. They eat sipped from their cups. 

“If I didn’t love him so much, I’d throw him on the balcony,” Byleth mumbled. 

Jeralt laughed. “I think that’s only something you’d be able to do, Father.” 

“You can always go sleep somewhere else, child. I’m stuck with him.” 

More sounds of amusement cut through the room as Jeralt finished his cup. “No, it’s alright.” 

“He doesn’t do this often, but when he does, it’s obnoxious. I remember one night back in the monastery, we were sleeping together in the archbishop’s chambers. It was a week or so before you were born, and I was so tired. I had been tending to correspondence in my office until Manuela scolded me and put me in bed. At night, I was uncomfortable, and it took me a while to fall asleep. Once I did, guess what? I was woken up by _this_ .” Byleth shook his head and chuckled. “By the Goddess, I was so _angry_. I kicked him so it would stop.” 

“It’s hard to imagine you being angry at Papa about anything.” 

“It wasn’t a vitriolic sort of anger, just the sort of anger that comes from annoyance and being tired and in pain. All I wanted was quiet so I could cope with my own discomforts in peace.” 

Jeralt tilted his head. “It seems you had difficulties before I was born…” 

“Yes, but aside from the assassination attempt, it was all normal occurrences,” Byleth said. He paused with a slight frown. He covered them both with the blanket. “Jeralt, do you find it odd that your... _father_ is the one that gave birth to you? You don’t have to lie to me. I understand if you find it troubling…” 

“No, of course not, Father. It doesn’t bother me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes…” Jeralt furrowed his brow. “I know the rumors are troubling, but I’m very grateful for all you’ve done for me. I’m grateful to Papa, too, but when it comes to me being born, you did all the hard work, didn’t you?”

“I did. With the coming coronation, I suppose it’s been on my mind more as of late. It’s become clear that you are Dimitri’s son, which is what matters. However, people still debate who gave birth to you.” 

“I don’t care what they think. I won’t let anyone disrespect your role in my existence. I will prove to them my parentage. My strength comes from the King of Faerghus and the Progenitor God. That mixture of blood flows through me, and I respect that. So will everyone else.” 

“Thank you. I know we’ve spoken of this before, but it...troubles me, I’ll admit.” 

Jeralt yawned and rested his head on Byleth’s shoulder. “Don’t be troubled, Father. We’re family above all else. We’ll always be together.” 

It quieted down as Jeralt fell asleep on Byleth’s shoulder. After staring into the flames until dawn crept around the corner, Byleth slipped into sleep. It was a bit restless at first, but it soon settled into something that eased his soul. A few hours after the sunrise, Dimitri woke to find the bed empty. He grunted and rose, confused and still disoriented from sleep. He walked to the fire that was dwindling, and his heart warmed. 

Dimitri seeing his son and husband asleep together on the sofa was something he never thought would bring such joy. It was a simple act, but it did more to make him happy than he thought possible. He became slightly amused when he realized it was likely himself that caused it by being too loud. After a few minutes of watching, he patted both of their heads before ruffling their hair. 

“Wake up, sleepyheads,” he teased.

They both rustled, Byleth displeased, yet still half asleep. He adjusted the blanket. “It’s your fault,” he mumbled. 

“I am sorry about that…” 

“Shhh. Sleeping.” 

“Fine. I shall get breakfast and give you a few extra minutes.” 

“Hey, Papa…” Jeralt said, his eyes still closed. 

Dimitri smiled. “Good morning, Jeralt. What would you like for breakfast? I am sure the kitchen has our pick.” 

“Fruit…” 

“Of course. And you, Byleth?” 

“Your silence. And bread.” 

It took all of Dimitri’s willpower to stifle a laugh. “It shall be done.” 

**-0-**

The family shared a quiet breakfast in the royal chambers, the warmth of the fire slowly dwindling after a night of activity. Jeralt munched on an apple while Byleth smeared butter over a slice of bread. After such a turmoil the day before, everything was still. Dimitri sighed and munched on plain bread as he leaned against the wall. He had received a morning report that the enemy’s forces surrendered the city over in the middle of the night, leaving and sending a messenger to relay the news. It was a victory, and it would give them a boost when facing off against the rest of the continent. No doubt forces from Enbarr would come their way to retake the city. However, it was sure to be a few months before such a thing took place. Now, the resistance had time to organize itself as the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus once again. 

Byleth stood after brushing crumbs away. He sighed and stared into the fire. “I’m going to meet with Seteth and Rhea this morning, and see if they would like to use the Fhirdiad castle as an official base for the Church of Seiros.” 

“Of course. I must speak with Felix and Sylvain later on this morning about formally forming the kingdom,” Dimitri replied. He swallowed the last of his bread, the dull texture sliding down his throat. Jeralt’s eyes shifted between the two of them. 

“It’s important for you to understand the inner-workings of the kingdom, Jeralt,” Byleth said to him. “You will be the heir to Faerghus. Stay with your papa for today.” 

“Yes, Father. Have a nice day.” 

A smile graced Byleth’s lips. He patted Jeralt’s hair before standing and exiting the room. The fire continued to dwindle as silence filled the space. Dimitri adjusted and crossed his arms in thought. Jeralt tossed his apple core in the fire and sat on the sofa, his eyes staring at the towering form just beyond him. Visions of the day before entered his mind, of men being crushed with bare hands. He shivered and looked away, trying to rid himself of the sight. 

“Jeralt…” Dimitri said with a sigh. “We must speak about a few things.” 

The words startled Jeralt, and he tried to tame his heart. “What is on your mind, Papa?” 

“I just want to apologize. I never wished for you to see my monstrous side. It is not as though I can rid you of what you saw yesterday, or tell you that you should pay it no mind. Your opinions on me are yours alone, and I shall respect that.” 

“I’ll be honest, I don’t know what to say.” 

The words stung, but Dimitri hid how much it dug into him. He leaned off the wall and exhaled, shame trickling through his blood. “That is understandable.” 

Jeralt bit his lip. “Papa, I won’t lie. I’m shocked by what I saw you and father do in the throne room.” 

“You have every right to be. We put on a depraved scene. Not to excuse it, but I promise you it wasn’t in vain.” Dimitri hung his head, unable to look in his son’s eyes. “We are flawed people, Jeralt. Anyone that wants to see the worst of us only has to threaten you, and they will get it.” 

“Why? Why are you willing to act like a monster for me? I don’t understand.” 

It was quiet. Dimitri thought it over carefully. The duty of being a parent was the first answer, but he tossed it. His son wouldn’t be satisfied with a simple, _it’s Papa’s job_ , he wasn’t a child. There needed to be an honest, heartfelt answer. All Dimitri could do was tell the truth, and after that, it was out of his hands. 

“Jeralt, love makes no sense. All I know, all I can say, is that...my love for you drives me to do all I can for you. It goes beyond feeling obligated, and I can’t properly describe what it is. I never expected creating life to feel this way. I became so attached to you so fast, in our past life, and this one. There is a difference, though. An infant knows not the face of a cruel man. All it knows is the face of a loving one. Yet, when those two meld, and the doves are set on fire, then what becomes of the two-faced man?” 

Dimitri huffed and stared at the lion banner above the mantle. He swallowed tears. The leisure of training, of dining and talking, had been taken for granted. For the first time, he experienced the true pain of parenthood. 

“I would rather you be alive and hating me than dead and haunting me,” he continued, swallowing the crack in his voice. “There is nothing that would kill me faster than listening to you in my head, screaming at me to avenge your death.” 

Jeralt’s eyes widened. He knew Dimitri had auditory and visual hallucinations, but he had assumed the worst of it had passed. The pain in his parent’s stance was panicking him. Dimitri, in his eyes, had an indomitable will coupled by unrivaled strength. To see him in a weakened state was frightening. It was also painful. 

“Papa, I...I am sorry,” he finally said. “I think part of my shock is lack of experience on the battlefield. You saved my life. I should be thanking you, rather than you feeling guilty over it.” 

“Those two things can happen at once, my son…” Dimitri shook his head. “There is much I can never give you. For that, I am sorry. However, I hope you understand that your father and I...we are willing to lay it all on the line for you. You are the one person we love just as much as we love each other. To be frank, our love _created_ you. There is nothing we wouldn’t give to keep you, the greatest product of our love, safe. Jeralt, you are my son, and no matter what, I will always consider fathering you one of the best things I have done.” 

The words sank into Jeralt’s soul. He had never heard such heartfelt sentiments. His uncles had made it clear they cared a great deal about him, but they weren’t his parents, and could never replace them. To hear Dimitri say such things was shocking in the best way possible. He was overwhelmed with emotions he had never felt before. 

“I accept you as you are, Papa,” Jeralt said. “If you must act in such a way to protect me, then I shall respect that is your decision to make. I’m thankful you are willing to do anything for my safety. After such a short time knowing each other, it’s surprising to see how far you’re willing to go for me.” 

“You misunderstand, Jeralt. It may seem like we’ve known each other only a short time, but I’ve been with you since the beginning.”

Jeralt stood, and they embraced after the gap between them was filled. No longer fearful of being crushed, being close to Dimitri was a feeling unlike any other. After so long being an orphan, it was a surreal miracle. He had been given a chance to be family with the two he idolized for so many years. That meant knowing them past the texts and the legends, and as people. Their flaws were part of it, and Jeralt had to learn it by seeing it with his own eyes. Even so, he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“Thank you, Jeralt,” Dimitri said, shutting his eye as a stray tear fell. He clung to his son, fearful he’d disappear from his grasp. “Your acceptance is what I have always wanted most.” 

“You don’t just have my acceptance. You have my love, from a son to a parent.”

A once-shut eye was blown wide. Dimitri stared into the distance, his body stiff as the words burrowed into his skin. It was always a fear of his to have a child that would not accept his two-faced ways, whether or not they ever resurfaced. If that child didn’t, he conceded there was nothing to be done about it. He was a beast, he had done awful things. Would creating one beautiful life be enough to atone? 

It didn’t matter now. Jeralt’s words were more genuine than they had ever been. There was no obligation in loving each other. They had connected as family, and formed a bond together that was unbreakable. They would weather their flaws together, and through that, come what may. For Dimitri, it was all he ever wanted. After having the world torn from him, he had built something in the ashes. It was his most precious treasure. 


End file.
